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THE-CRUISE  OF  THE 
SNARK- 


BY 


JACK    LONDON 

•  t    . 

AUTHOR    OF    "BURNING    DAYLIGHT,"    "MARTIN    EDEN," 
•  "THE   CALL   OF   THE   WILD,"    ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


gorfe 

THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1911 

All  rights  reserved 


L 

c. 


COPYRIGHT,  1908, 
BY  HARPER  &   BROTHERS. 

COPYRIGHT,  1906, 
BY   THE   INTERNATIONAL  MAGAZINE   CO. 

COPYRIGHT,  1907,  1908,  AND  1909, 
BY  THE  CROWELL   PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 

COPYRIGHT,  1911, 
BY  THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  June,  1911. 


Xortoootj 

J.  8.  dishing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


CHARMIAN 

THE   MATE  OF  THE  SNARK 
WHO   TOOK   THE   WHEEL,   NIGHT   OR    DAY,    WHEN   ENTERING 

OR   LEAVING   PORT   OR    RUNNING   A   PASSAGE,   WHO 

TOOK     THE     WHEEL    IN     EVERY     EMERGENCY,     AND     WHO    WEPT 

AFTER    TWO   YEARS   OF   SAILING,   WHEN   THE 

VOYAGE   WAS   DISCONTINUED 


236289 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

I.  FOREWORD  ..... 

II.  THE  INCONCEIVABLE  AND   MONSTROUS 

III.  ADVENTURE          ..... 

IV.  FINDING   ONE'S  WAY  ABOUT 
V.  THE   FIRST  LANDFALL 

VI.  A   ROYAL  SPORT          .... 

VII.  THE  LEPERS  OF   MOLOKAI 

VIII.  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE   SUN 

IX.  A   PACIFIC  TRAVERSE  .... 

X.  TYPEE 

XI.  THE  NATURE   MAN      .... 

XII.  THE  HIGH   SEAT  OF  ABUNDANCE 

XIII.  STONE-FISHING   OF  BORA   BORA 

XIV.  THE  AMATEUR  NAVIGATOR  . 
XV.  CRUISING  IN  THE  SOLOMONS 

XVI.  BECHE  DE   MER   ENGLISH 

XVII.  THE   AMATEUR   M.D. 
BACKWORD 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Frontispiece  in  colors 

PAGE 

1 .  The  Building  of  the  Snark  .....          9 

2.  The  Snark  Set  Up    . II 

3.  Interior  View  of  Frame       .  .  .  .  .  .12 

4.  Hull  of  the  Snark .         15 

5.  Charmian  and  the  Skipper  .  .  .  .  .  .21 

6.  Taking  on  Stores  at  Oakland  City  Wharf       .  .          .25 

7.  Our  Head-sails 31 

8.  The  Two  Boats,  on  Deck,  left  Little  Room   .           .  13 

9.  The  Best  Adventurer  of  them  All           .          .          .           -37 
10.  On  a  Level  Sea          .......        40 

IT.  The  Doldrums           .......        45 

12.  Doing  her  Trick        .......        48 

13.  The  Dark  Secrets  of  Navigation   .  .          .          .          .52 

14.  Land  Ho  ! 54 

15.  Our  First  Guny         .  .           .           .           .           .           -57 

1 6.  A  Big  Wave  that  is  liable  to  steal  the  Horizon  Away         .        61 

17.  In  the  Heel  of  the  Northeast  Trader      ....        64 

1 8.  The  Snark  at  her  First  Anchorage          ....        66 

19.  The  Wharf  that  wouldn't  stand  Still      ....         67 

20.  Tropic  Loot     ........        70 

21.  Dream  Harbor  .          .           .          .          .          .          •        73 

22.  Coming  in  on  a  Wave         ......        j6 

23.  Leviathan  and  the  Snark     .  .           .           .           .           •         77 

24.  Good  Morning  .......        79 

25.  Standing  up  and  lying  down          .  .  .  .  .81 

26.  Beating  the  Break  of  the  Wave  ....         84 

ix 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


27.  The  Wave  that  Everybody  Caught         .  .          .  .87 

28.  Molokai.      "Horribles"    on    Morning    of    July    Fourth. 

They  are  All  Lepers        .          .          .          .          .  93 

29.  Molokai,  Pa-u  Riders  on  Morning  of  Fourth  of  July  .        96 

30.  Molokai,  a  Pa-u  Rider        ......        99 

31.  Molokai  Leper  Fishermen  in  their  Boats  at  Boat  Landing  .      102 

32.  Molokai.      Village  of  Kalaupapa.      The  Pali,  or  Precipice, 

in    the    Background    varies    in    Height    between    Two 
Thousand  and  Four  Thousand  Feet  .          .  .      104 

33.  Molokai.      Looking  down  Damien  Road         .          .  .106 

34.  Molokai.      Father  Damien' s  Church      .          .          .  .108 

35.  Molokai.      Father  Damien' s  Grave        .  .          .          .no 

36.  One  Pack-horse  carried  Twenty  Gallons  of  Water  in  Five- 

gallon  Bags  .  .          .          .          .          .          .114 

37.  We  had  a  Lunch  of  Jerked  Beef  and  Hard  Poi  in  a  Stone 

Corral I  1 8 

38.  On  the  Crater's  Rim 121 

39.  The  Cinder  Cones,  the  Smallest  over  Four  Hundred  Feet 

in  Height,  the  Largest  over  Nine  Hundred,  on  the  Floor 

of  the  Crater,  nearly  Haifa  Mile  Beneath  .          .          .123 

40.  A  Lope  across  a  Level  Stretch  to  the  Mouth  of  a  Con 

venient  Blow-hole  .          .          .          .          .          .125 

41.  Our  Way  led  past  a  Bottomless  Pit        .          .          .          .127 

42.  That  Entering  Wedge  of  Cloud  is  a  Mile  and  a  Half  Wide 

in  the  Gap  itself,  while  beyond  the  Gap  it  is  a  Veritable 
Ocean  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .129 

43.  And  through  the   Gap  Ukiukiu  vainly  strove  to  drive  his 

Fleecy  Herds  of  Trade-wind  Clouds  .  .  .131 

44.  A  Man-eater    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .135 

45.  Through  the  Shark's  Jaws  .  .          .  .  .  .138 

46.  A  Dolphin       .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .142 

47.  An  Unwilling  Pose  .          .          .          .          .          .          .146 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  xi 


PAGE 


48.  A  Four-foot  Seven-inch  Dolphin  .           .          .          .  .150 

49.  Grass-houses    .          .          .  .  .  .  .  .      155 

50.  The  Goddess  of  the  Pool 158 

51.  The  Tropics  —  after  the  Advent  of  Morality  .           .162 

52.  A  Cocoanut  Grove    .......      164 

53.  The  Camera  in  the  Marquesas     .           .          .  .           .166 

54.  Under  the  Banana  Tree      .          .  .          .  .  .168 

55.  Behind  the  Bulwark  of  the  Reef 171 

56.  One  of  the  Last  of  a  Mighty  Race         .          .           .  174 

57.  Under  the  Cocoanuts  .          .          .          .  .  .176 

58.  The  Nature  Man  comes  on  Board  the  Snark  .                 180 

59.  The  Abbreviated  Fish-net  Shirt    .  .          .  .  .185 

60.  The  Nature  Man's  Plantation 188 

61.  In  the  Sweat  of  his  Brow   .  .          .  .          .  .192 

62.  Breakfast  from  the  Breadfruit  Tree         .           .           .  .196 

63.  "  The  sail  was  impossible "          .          -.  .  .  .199 

64.  Tehei .201 

65.  A  South  Sea  Island  Home  .....      206 

66.  Visitors  on  Board  the  Snark  at  Raiatea  .  .          .  .215 

67.  "  In  a  Double-canoe  paddled  by  a  Dozen  Strapping  Ama 

zons"          .          .  .          .          .          .          .  .220 

68.  The  Launch  attracted  much  Attention  .  .  .  .221 

69.  "The  Polynesian  barge  in  which  we  were  to  ride"  .      223 

70.  The  Stone-thrower    .          .  .          .  .  .  .224 

71.  "Flower-crowned    maidens,    hand   in   hand  and   two  by 

two"  ........      226 

72.  The  Leader  of  the  Drive  signaling  his  Commands    .          .      228 

73.  The  Circle  began  to  Contract      .  .          .  .  .229 

74.  "The  palisade  of  legs " 230 

75.  One  of  the  Fishermen          .  .          .          .          .          .231 

76.  The  Gendarme  of  Bora  Bora,  paddled  by  his  Prisoners      .      232 

77.  The  Kind  of  Fish  we  did  not  Catch      .  .          .          -233 


xii  LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


78.  The  Famous  "  Broom  Road,"  Tahiti  .          .          .237 

79.  Paumotan  Natives   .......      240 

80.  Snark  at  Suva-Fiji  Islands  .....      242 
8  I.  South  Sea  Island  Beauties  riding  in  the  Snarl? s  Launch    .      244 

82.  A  South  Sea  Islander         .          .  .          .          .  .      247 

83.  Taupous,  or  Village  Maidens,  Island  of  Savaii,  Samoan 

Group        ........      249 

84.  Between  Black  Diamonds.      (Girls  of  Savaii,  Samoa)      .      252 

85.  Maids  of  the  Village,  Savaii,  Samoa     .  .          .          .254 

86.  A  Samoan  Policeman         .          .  .          .          .          .257 

87.  Man-eaters     ........      260 

88.  Typical  Coast  Scene  —  Solomons        ....      263 

89.  Coast  at  Maravovo,  Guadalcaner          ....      265 

90.  Four  Old  Rascals    .......      267 

91.  The  Two  Handsomest  Men  in  the  Solomons         .  .      269 

92.  Island  of  Uru  —  Hand-manufactured  —  Malaita     .          .      272 

93.  The  Island  of  Langa,  built  up  from  the  Sea  by  the  Salt 

water  Men  .......      274 

94.  A  Salt-water  Fastness        ......      276 

95.  The  Island  of  Auki,  built  up  from  the  Sea  by  Salt-water 

Men  .  . 280 

96.  The  Market  —  composed  wholly  of  Women  .  .281 

97.  An  Island  in  Process  of  Manufacture    ,  .  .  .283 

98.  Solomon  Islands  Canoe     .  .  .  .  .  .285 

99.  Men  of  Kewm  —  Solomons        .          .          .          .  .288 

100.  Bush-women  going  to  Market,  Malu,  Malaita         .  .      290 

1 01.  Salt-water    Women    on   their    Way   to    Market,    Malu, 

Malaita      . 292 

102.  A  Malaita  Man       .......      296 

103.  A  Malaita  "  Mary  " 297 

104.  Vella  Lavella  Man  .......      298 

105.  From  Fin  B or i  —  Malaita  .....      299 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  xiii 

PAGE 

106.  A  Beau  of  Malaita  .......      300 

107.  He    knew  the  Sandal- wood  Traders  and   the  Beche   de 

Mer  Fishermen   .......  302 

1 08.  He  might  have  been  Gladstone  .....  303 

109.  Old  Woman  of  Vella  Lavella 304 

1 10.  "Marys"     ........  306 

111.  Pulling  my  First  Tooth     .  .          .          .          .  .311 

112.  Careening  the  Snark         .  .          .          .          .  313 

113.  A  War  Canoe 316 

1 1 4.  Visitors    coming    alongside,    Meringe    Lagoon,    Ysabel, 

Solomon  Islands  .          .          .          .  .  .  .318 

115.  Village  of  the  Ete-Ete,  Ugi,  Solomons          .  .  .321 

116.  Charmian  does  some  Photographing     ....      323 
li  J.    The  Snark' s  Complement  in  the  Solomons  after  we  lost 

the  Cook  and  gained  a  German  Mate        .          .  .326 

1 1 8.  Laundry  Bills  are  not  among  his  Vexations.      His  Garb, 

however,  is  a  Concession  to  Civilization.  —  Lord  Howe 
Atoll 332 

1 19.  The  Trader's  House  at  Lua  Nua,  Lord  Howe  Atoll       .      334 


You  have  heard  the  beat  of  the  offshore  wind, 
And  the  thresh  of  the  deep-sea  rain  ; 
You  have  heard  the  song  —  how  long  !  how  long  ! 
Pull  out  on  the  trail  again  ! ' ' 


xiv 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  SNARK 


CHAPTER   I 

Foreword 

IT  began  in  the  swimming  pool  at  Glen  Ellen. 
Between  swims  it  was  our  wont  to  come  out  and  lie  in 
the  sand  and  let  our  skins  breathe  the  warm  air  and 
soak  in  the  sunshine.  Roscoe  was  a  yachtsman.  I 
had  followed  the  sea  a  bit.  It  was  inevitable  that  we 
should  talk  about  boats.  We  talked  about  small  boats, 
and  the  seaworthiness  of  small  boats.  We  instanced 
Captain  Slocum  and  his  three  years'  voyage  around 
the  world  in  the  Spray. 

We  asserted  that  we  were  not  afraid  to  go  around 
the  world  in  a  small  boat,  say  forty  feet  long.  We 
asserted  furthermore  that  we  would  like  to  do  it.  We 
asserted  finally  that  there  was  nothing  in  this  world 
we'd  like  better  than  a  chance  to  do  it. 

"  Let  us  do  it,"  we  said  ...  in  fun. 

Then  I  asked  Charmian  privily  if  she'd  really 
care  to  do  it,  and  she  said  that  it  was  too  good  to  be 
true. 

The  next  time  we  breathed  our  skins  in  the  sand  by 
the  swimming  pool  I  said  to  Roscoe,  "  Let  us  do  it." 

I  was  in  earnest,  and  so  was  he,  for  he  said  : 

"When  shall  we  start?" 

I  had  a  house  to  build  on  the  ranch,  also  an  orchard, 
a  vineyard,  and  several  hedges  to  plant,  and  a  number 
of  other  things  to  do.  We  thought  we  would  start  in 


2         THE    CRUISE   OF   THE    SNARK 

four  or  five  years.  Then  the  lure  of  the  adventure 
began  to  grip  us.  Why  not  start  at  once?  We'd 
never  be  younger,  any  of  us.  Let  the  orchard,  vine 
yard,  and  hedges  be  growing  up  while  we  were  away. 
When  we  came  back,  they  would  be  ready  for  us,  and 
we  could  live  in  the  barn  while  we  built  the  house. 

So  the  trip  was  decided  upon,  and  the  building  of 
the  Snark  began.  We  named  her  the  Snark  because 
we  could  not  think  of  any  other  name  —  this  informa 
tion  is  given  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  otherwise 
might  think  there  is  something  occult  in  the  name. 

Our  friends  cannot  understand  why  we  make  this 
voyage.  They  shudder,  and  moan,  and  raise  their 
hands.  No  amount  of  explanation  can  make  them 
comprehend  that  we  are  moving  along  the  line  of  least 
resistance ;  that  it  is  easier  for  us  to  go  down  to  the 
sea  in  a  small  ship  than  to  remain  on  dry  land,  just  as 
it  is  easier  for  them  to  remain  on  dry  land  than  to  go 
down  to  the  sea  in  the  small  ship.  This  state  of  mind 
comes  of  an  undue  prominence  of  the  ego.  They 
cannot  get  away  from  themselves.  They  cannot  come 
out  of  themselves  long  enough  to  see  that  their  line 
of  least  resistance  is  not  necessarily  everybody  else's 
line  of  least  resistance.  They  make  of  their  own 
bundle  of  desires,  likes,  and  dislikes  a  yardstick 
wherewith  to  measure  the  desires,  likes,  and  dislikes 
of  all  creatures.  This  is  unfair.  I  tell  them  so. 
But  they  cannot  get  away  from  their  own  miserable 
egos  long  enough  to  hear  me.  They  think  I  am 
crazy.  In  return,  I  am  sympathetic.  It  is  a  state  of 
mind  familiar  to  me.  We  are  all  prone  to  think  there 
is  something  wrong  with  the  mental  processes  of  the 
man  who  disagrees  with  us. 


FOREWORD  3 

The  ultimate  word  is  I  LIKE.  It  lies  beneath  phi-1 
losophy,  and  is  twined  about  the  heart  of  life.  When 
philosophy  has  maundered  ponderously  for  a  month, 
telling  the  individual  what  he  must  do,  the  individual 
says,  in  an  instant,  "  I  LIKE,"  and  does  something  else, 
and  philosophy  goes  glimmering.  It  is  I  LIKE  that 
makes  the  drunkard  drink  and  the  martyr  wear  a  hair 
shirt;  that  makes  one  man  a  reveller  and  Another  man 
an  anchorite ;  that  makes  one  man  pursue  fame, 
another  gold,  another  love,  and  another  God.  Phi 
losophy  is  very  often  a  man's  way  of  explaining  his 
own  I  LIKE. 

But  to  return  to  the  Snark,  and  why  I,  for  one,  want 
to  journey  in  her  around  the  world.  The  things  I  like 
constitute  my  set  of  values.  The  thing  I  like  most 
of  all  is  personal  achievement  —  not  achievement  for 
the  world's  applause,  but  achievement  for  my  own 
delight.  It  is  the  old  "I  did  it!  I  did  it!  With  my 
own  hands  I  did  it !  "  But  personal  achievement,  with 
me,  must  be  concrete.  I'd  rather  win  a  water-fight  in 
the  swimming  pool,  or  remain  astride  a  horse  that  is 
trying  to  get  out  from  under  me,  than  write  the  great 
American  novel.  Each  man  to  his  liking.  Some 
other  fellow  would  prefer  writing  the  great  American 
novel  to  winning  the  water-fight  or  mastering  the 
horse. 

.Possibly  the  proudest  achievement  of  my  life,  my 
moment  of  highest  living,  occurred  when  I  was  seven 
teen.  I  was  in  a  three-masted  schooner  off  the  coast 
of  Japan.  We  were  in  a  typhoon.  All  hands  had 
been  on  deck  most  of  the  night.  I  was  called  from 
my  bunk  at  seven  in  the  morning  to  take  the  wheel. 
Not  a  stitch  of  canvas  was  set.  We  were  running  be- 


4         THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

fore  it  under  bare  poles,  yet  the  schooner  fairly  tore 
along.  The  seas  were  all  of  an  eighth  of  a  mile  apart, 
and  the  wind  snatched  the  whitecaps  from  their  sum 
mits,  filling  the  air  so  thick  with  driving  spray  that  it 
was  impossible  to  see  more  than  two  waves  at  a  time. 
The  schooner  was  almost  unmanageable,  rolling  her 
rail  under  to  starboard  and  to  port,  veering  and  yawing 
anywhere  between  southeast  and  southwest,  and  threat 
ening,  when  the  huge  seas  lifted  under  her  quarter,  to 
broach  to.  Had  she  broached  to,  she  would  ultimately 
have  been  reported  lost  with  all  hands  and  no  tidings. 

I  took  the  wheel.  The  sailing-master  watched  me 
for  a  space.  He  was  afraid  of  my  youth,  feared  that  I 
lacked  the  strength  and  the  nerve.  •  But  when  he  saw 
me  successfully  wrestle  the  schooner  through  several 
bouts,  he  went  below  to  breakfast.  Fore  and  aft,  all 
hands  were  below  at  breakfast.  Had  she  broached  to, 
not  one  of  them  would  ever  have  reached  the  deck. 
For  forty  minutes  I  stood  there  alone  at  the  wheel,  in 
my  grasp  the  wildly  careering  schooner  and  the  lives  of 
twenty-two  men.  Once  we  were  pooped.  I  saw  it 
coming,  and,  half-drowned^  with  tons  of  water  crushing 
me,  I  checked  the  schooner's  rush  to  broach  to.  At 
the  end  of  the  hour,  sweating  and  played  out,  I  was 
relieved.  But  I  had  done  it !  With  my  own  hands  I 
had  done  my  trick  at  the  wheel  and  guided  a  hundred 
tons  of  wood  and  iron  through  a  few  million  tons  of 
wind  and  waves. 

My  delight  was  in  that  I  had  done  it  —  not  in  the  fact 
that  twenty-two  men  knew  I  had  done  it.  Within  the 
year  over  half  of  them  were  dead  and  gone,  yet  my 
pride  in  the  thing  performed  was  not  diminished  by 
half.  I  am  willing  to  confess,  however,  that  I  do  like 


FOREWORD  5 

a  small  audience.  But  it  must  be  a  very  small  audi 
ence,  composed  of  those  who  love  me  and  whom  I 
love.  When  I  then  accomplish  personal  achievement, 
I  have  a  feeling  that  I  am  justifying  their  love  for  me. 
But  this  is  quite  apart  from  the  delight  of  the  achieve 
ment  itself.  This  delight  is  peculiarly  my  own  and 
does  not  depend  upon  witnesses.  When  I  *have  done 
some  such  thing,  I  am  exalted.  I  glow  all  over.  I 
am  aware  of  a  pride  in  myself  that  is  mine,  and  mine 
alone.  It  is  organic.  Every  fibre  of  me  is  thrilling 
with  it.  It  is  very  natural.  It  is  a  mere  matter  of  sat 
isfaction  at  adjustment  to  environment.  It  is  success. 

Life  that  lives  is  life  successful,  and  success  is  the 
breath  of  its  nostrils.  The  achievement  of  a  difficult 
feat  is  successful  adjustment  to  a  sternly  exacting  en 
vironment.  The  more  difficult  the  feat,  the  greater 
the  satisfaction  at  its  accomplishment.  Thus  it  is  with 
the  man  who  leaps  forward  from  the  springboard,  out 
over  the  swimming  pool,  and  with  a  backward  half- 
revolution  of  the  body,  enters  the  water  head  first. 
Once  he  left  the  springboard  his  environment  became 
immediately  savage,  and  savage  the  penalty  it  would 
have  exacted  had  he  failed  and  struck  the  water  flat. 
Of  course,  the  man  did  not  have  to  run  the  risk  of  the 
penalty.  He  could  have  remained  on  the  bank  in  a 
sweet  and  placid  environment  of  summer  air,  sunshine, 
and  stability.  Only  he  was  not  made  that  way.  In 
that  swift  mid-air  moment  he  lived  as  he  could  never 
have  lived  on  the  bank. 

As  for  myself,  I'd  rather  be  that  man  than  the  fel 
lows  who  sat  on  the  bank  and  watched  him.  That  is 
why  I  am  building  the  Snark.  I  am  so  made.  I  like, 
that  is  all.  The  trip  around  the  world  means  big 


6         THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

moments  of  living.  Bear  with  me  a  moment  and  look 
at  it.  Here  am  I,  a  little  animal  called  a  man  —  a  bit  of 
vitalized  matter,  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  pounds  of 
meat  and  blood,  nerve,  sinew,  bones,  and  brain,  —  all 
of  it  soft  and  tender,  susceptible  to  hurt,  fallible,  and 
frail.  I  strike  a  light  back-handed  blow  on  the  nose 
of  an  obstreperous  horse,  and  a  bone  in  my  hand  is 
broken.  I  put  my  head  under  the  water  for  five  min 
utes,  and  I  am  drowned.  I  fall  twenty  feet  through 
the  air,  and  I  am  smashed.  I  am  a  creature  of  tem 
perature.  A  few  degrees  one  way,  and  my  fingers 
and  ears  and  toes  blacken  and  drop  off.  A  few  de 
grees  the  other  way,  and  my  skin  blisters  and  shrivels 
away  from  the  raw,  quivering  flesh.  A  few  additional 
degrees  either  way,  and  the  life  and  the  light  in  me  go 
•  out.  A  drop  of  poison  injected  into  my  body  from  a 
snake,  and  I  cease  to  move  —  forever  I  cease  to  move. 
A  splinter  of  lead  from  a  rifle  enters  my  head,  and  I 
am  wrapped  around  in  the  eternal  blackness. 

Fallible  and  frail,  a  bit  of  pulsating,  jelly-like  life  — 
it  is  all  I  am.  About  me  are  the  great  natural  forces 
—  colossal  menaces,  Titans  of  destruction,  unsenti 
mental  monsters  that  have  less  concern  for  me  than  I 
have  for  the  grain  of  sand  I  crush  under  my  foot. 
They  have  no  concern  at  all  for  me.  They  do  not 
know  me.  They  are  unconscious,  unmerciful,  and 
unmoral.  They  are  the  cyclones  and  tornadoes,  light 
ning  flashes  and  cloud-bursts,  tide-rips  and  tidal  waves, 
undertows  and  waterspouts,  great  whirls  and  sucks  and 
eddies,  earthquakes  and  volcanoes,  surfs  that  thunder 
on  rock-ribbed  coasts  and  seas  that  leap  aboard  the 
largest  crafts  that  float,  crushing  humans  to  pulp  or 
licking  them  off  into  the  sea  and  to  death  —  and  these 


FOREWORD  7 

insensate  monsters  do  not  know  that  tiny  sensitive 
creature,  all  nerves  and  weaknesses,  whom  men  call 
Jack  London,  and  who  himself  thinks  he  is  all  right 
and  quite  a  superior  being. 

In  the  maze  and  chaos  of  the  conflict  of  these  vast 
and  draughty  Titans,  it  is  for  me  to  thread  my  preca 
rious  way.  The  bit  of  life  that  is  I  will  exult  over 
them.  The  bit  of  life  that  is  I,  in  so  far  as  it  succeeds 
in  baffling  them  or  in  bitting  them  to  its  service,  will 
imagine  that  it  is  godlike.  It  is  good  to  ride  the  tem 
pest  and  feel  godlike.  I  dare  to  assert  that  for  a  fi 
nite  speck  of  pulsating  jelly  to  feel  godlike  is  a  far 
more  glorious  feeling  than  for  a  god  to  feel  godlike. 

Here  is  the  sea,  the  wind,  and  the  wave.  Here  are 
the  seas,  the  winds,  and  the  waves  of  all  the  world. 
Here  is  ferocious  environment.  And  here  is  difficult 
adjustment,  the  achievement  of  which  is  delight  to  the 
small  quivering  vanity  that  is  I.  I  like.  I  am  so 
made.  It  is  my  own  particular  form  of  vanity,  that  is 
all. 

There  is  also  another  side  to  the  voyage  of  the 
Snark.  Being  alive,  I  want  to  see,  and  all  the  world  is 
a  bigger  thing  to  see  than  one  small  town  or  valley. 
We  have  done  little  outlining  of  the  voyage.  Only 
one  thing  is  definite,  and  that  is  that  our  first  port  of 
call  will  be  Honolulu.  Beyond  a  few  general  ideas,  we 
have  no  thought  of  our  next  port  after  Hawaii.  We 
shall  make  up  our  minds  as  we  get  nearer.  In  a  gen 
eral  way  we  know  that  we  shall  wander  through  the 
South  Seas,  take  in  Samoa,  New  Zealand,  Tasmania, 
Australia,  New  Guinea,  Borneo,  and  Sumatra,  and 
go  on  up  through  the  Philippines  to  Japan.  Then 
will  come  Korea,  China,  India,  the  Red  Sea,  and  the 


8         THE   CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

Mediterranean.  After  that  the  voyage  becomes  too 
vague  to  describe,  though  we  know  a  number  of  things 
we  shall  surely  do,  and  we  expect  to  spend  from  one  to 
several  months  in  every  country  in  Europe. 

The  Snark  is  to  be  sailed.  There  will  be  a  gasolene 
engine  on  board,  but  it  will  be  used  only  in  case  of 
emergency,  such  as  in  bad  water  among  reefs  and 
shoals,  where  a  sudden  calm  in  a  swift  current  leaves  a 
sailing-boat  helpless.  The  rig  of  the  Snark  is  to  be 
what  is  called  the  "ketch."  The  ketch  rig  is  a  com 
promise  between  the  yawl  and  the  schooner.  Of  late 
years  the  yawl  rig  has  proved  the  best  for  cruising. 
The  ketch  retains  the  cruising  virtues  of  the  yawl,  and 
in  addition  manages  to  embrace  a  few  of  the  sailing 
virtues  of  the  schooner.  The  foregoing  must  be  taken 
with  a  pinch  of  salt.  It  is  all  theory  in  my  head.  I've 
never  sailed  a  ketch,  nor  even  seen  one.  The  theory 
commends  itself  to  me.  Wait  till  I  get  out  on  the 
ocean,  then  I'll  be  able  to  tell  more  about  the  cruising 
and  sailing  qualities  of  the  ketch. 

As  originally  planned,  the  Snark  was  to  be  forty 
feet  long  on  the  water-line.  But  we  discovered  there 
was  no  space  for  a  bath-room,  and  for  that  reason 
we  have  increased  her  length  to  forty-five  feet.  Her 
greatest  beam  is  fifteen  feet.  She  has  no  house  and  no 
hold.  There  is  six  feet  of  headroom,  and  the  deck  is 
unbroken  save  for  two  companionways  and  a  hatch 
for'ard.  The  fact  that  there  is  no  house  to  break  the 
strength  of  the  deck  will  make  us  feel  safer  in  case 
great  seas  thunder  their  tons  of  water  down  on  board. 
A  large  and  roomy  cockpit,  sunk  beneath  the  deck, 
with  high  rail  and  self-bailing,  will  make  our  rough- 
weather  days  and  nights  more  comfortable. 


FOREWORD 


io       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

There  will  be  no  crew.  Or,  rather,  Charmian, 
Roscoe,  and  I  are  the  crew.  We  are  going  to  do  the 
thing  with  our  own  hands.  With  our  own  hands 
we're  going  to  circumnavigate  the  globe.  Sail  her  or 
sink  her,  with  our  own  hands  we'll  do  it.  Of  course 
there  will  be  a  cook  and  a  cabin-boy.  Why  should  we 
stew  over  a  stove,  wash  dishes,  and  set  the  table  ? 
We  could  stay  on  land  if  we  wanted  to  do  those 
things.  Besides,  we've  got  to  stand  watch  and  work 
the  ship.  And  also,  I've  got  to  work  at  my  trade  of 
writing  in  order  to  feed  us  and  to  get  new  sails  and 
tackle  and  keep  the  Snark  in  efficient  working  order. 
And  then  there's  the  ranch;  I've  got  to  keep  the  vine 
yard,  orchard,  and  hedges  growing. 

When  we  increased  the  length  of  the  Snark  in  order 
to  get  space  for  a  bath-room,  we  found  that  all  the 
space  was  not  required  by  the  bath-room.  Because  of 
this,  we  increased  the  size  of  the  engine.  Seventy 
horse-power  our  engine  is,  and  since  we  expect  it  to 
drive  us  along  at  a  nine-knot  clip,  we  do  not  know  the 
name  of  a  river  with  a  current  swift  enough  to  defy 
us. 

We  expect  to  do  a  lot  of  inland  work.  The  small- 
ness  of  the  Snark  makes  this  possible.  When  we  enter 
the  land,  out  go  the  masts  and  on  goes  the  engine. 
There  are  the  canals  of  China,  and  the  Yang-tse  River. 
We  shall  spend  months  on  them  if  we  can  get  permis 
sion  from  the  government.  That  will  be  the  one 
obstacle  to  our  inland  voyaging  —  governmental  per 
mission.  But  if  we  can  get  that  permission,  there 
is  scarcely  a  limit  to  the  inland  voyaging  we  can  do. 

When  we  come  to  the  Nile,  why  we  can  go  up  the 
Nile.  We  can  go  up  the  Danube  to  Vienna,  up  the 


FOREWORD 


ii 


Thames  to  London,  and  we  can  go  up  the  Seine  to 
Paris  and  moor  opposite  the  Latin  Quarter  with  a 
bow-line  out  to  Notre  Dame  and  a  stern-line  fast  to 
the  Morgue.  We  can  leave  the  Mediterranean  and 
go  up  the  Rhone  to  Lyons,  there  enter  the  Saone, 
cross  from  the  Saone  to  the  Marne  through  the 
Canal  de  Bourgogne,  and  from  the  Marne  enter  the 


The  Snark  Set  Up. 


we 


Seine  and  go  out  the  Seine  at  Havre.  When 
cross  the  Atlantic  to  the  United  States,  we  can  go  up 
the  Hudson,  pass  through  the  Erie  Canal,  cross  the 
Great  Lakes,  leave  Lake  Michigan  at  Chicago,  gain 
the  Mississippi  by  way  of  the  Illinois  River  and  the 
connecting  canal,  and  go  down  the  Mississippi  to  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico.  And  then  there  are  the  great  rivers 
of  South  America.  We'll  know  something  about  ge 
ography  when  we  get  back  to  California. 

People  that  build  houses  are  often  sore  perplexed ; 
but  if  they  enjoy  the  strain  of  it,  I'll  advise  them  to 


12       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

build  a  boat  like  the  Snark.  Just  consider,  for  a  mo 
ment,  the  strain  of  detail.  Take  the  engine.  What 
is  the  best  kind  of  engine  —  the  two  cycle  ?  three  cy 
cle  ?  four  cycle  ?  My  lips  are  mutilated  with  all  kinds 
of  strange  jargon,  my  mind  is  mutilated  with  still 
stranger  ideas  and  is  foot-sore  and  weary  from  travel 
ling  in  new  and  rocky  realms  of  thought.  —  Ignition 


Interior  View  of  Frame. 


methods  ;  shall  it  be  make-and-break  or  jump-spark  ? 
Shall  dry  cells  or  storage  batteries  be  used  ?  A  stor 
age  battery  commends  itself,  but  it  requires  a  dynamo. 
How  powerful  a  dynamo?  And  when  we  have  in 
stalled  a  dynamo  and  a  storage  battery,  it  is  simply 
ridiculous  not  to  light  the  boat  with  electricity.  Then 
comes  the  discussion  of  how  many  lights  and  how 
many  candle-power.  It  is  a  splendid  idea.  But  elec 
tric  lights  will  demand  a  more  powerful  storage  battery, 
which,  in  turn,  demands  a  more  powerful  dynamo. 


FOREWORD  13 

And  now  that  we've  gone  in  for  it,  why  not  have  a 
searchlight?  It  would  be  tremendously  useful.  But 
the  searchlight  needs  so  much  electricity  that  when  it 
runs  it  will  put  all  the  other  lights  out  of  commission. 
Again  we  travel  the  weary  road  in  the  quest  after  more 
power  for  storage  battery  and  dynamo.  And  then, 
when  it  is  finally  solved,  some  one  asks,  "What  if  the 
engine  breaks  down  ?  "  And  we  collapse.  There  are 
the  sidelights,  the  binnacle  light,  and  the  anchor  light. 
Our  very  lives  depend  upon  them.  So  we  have  to  fit 
the  boat  throughout  with  oil  lamps  as  well. 

But  we  are  not  done  with  that  engine  yet.  The 
engine  is  powerful.  We  are  two  small  men  and  a 
small  woman.  It  will  break  our  hearts 'and  our  backs 
to  hoist  anchor  by  hand.  Let  the  engine  do  it.  And 
then  comes  the  problem  of  how  to  convey  power  for- 
'ard  from  the  engine  to  the  winch.  And  by  the  time 
all  this  is  settled,  we  redistribute  the  allotments  of 
space  to  the  engine-room,  galley,  bath-room,  state-rooms, 
and  cabin,  and  begin  all  over  again.  And  when  we 
have  shifted  the  engine,  I  send  off  a  telegram  of  gib 
berish  to  its  makers  at  New  York,  something  like  this : 
Toggle-joint  abandoned  change  thrust-bearing  accordingly 
distance  from  forward  side  of  flywheel  to  face  of  sternpost 
sixteen  feet  six  inches. 

Just  potter  around  in  quest  of  the  best  steering  gear, 
or  try  to  decide  whether  you  will  set  up  your  rigging 
with  old-fashioned  lanyards  or  with  turnbuckles,  if  you 
want  strain  of  detail.  Shall  the  binnacle  be  located  in 
front  of  the  wheel  in  the  centre  of  the  beam,  or  shall  it 
be  located  to  one  side  in  front  of  the  wheel  ?  —  there's 
room  right  there  for  a  library  of  sea-dog  controversy. 
Then  there's  the  problem  of  gasolene,  fifteen  hundred 


i4       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

gallons  of  it  —  what  are  the  safest  ways  to  tank  it  and 
pipe  it  ?  and  which  is  the  best  fire-extinguisher  for  a 
gasolene  fire  ?  Then  there  is  the  pretty  problem  of 
the  life-boat  and  the  stowage  of  the  same.  And  when 
that  is  finished,  come  the  cook  and  cabin-boy  to  con 
front  one  with  nightmare  possibilities.  It  is  a  small 
boat,  and  we'll  be  packed  close  together.  The 


ser- 


Hull  of  the  Snark. 

vant-girl  problem  of  landsmen  pales  to  insignificance. 
We  did  select  one  cabin-boy,  and  by  that  much  were 
our  troubles  eased.  And  then  the  cabin-boy  fell  in 
love  and  resigned. 

And  in  the  meanwhile  how  is  a  fellow  to  find  time 
to  study  navigation  —  when  he  is  divided  between 
these  problems  and  the  earning  of  the  money  where 
with  to  settle  the  problems  ?  Neither  Roscoe  nor  I 
knows  anything  about  navigation,  and  the  summer  is 
gone,  and  we  are  about  to  start,  and  the  problems  are 
thicker  than  ever,  and  the  treasury  is  stuffed  with 


FOREWORD  15 

emptiness.  Well,  anyway,  it  takes  years  to  learn  sea 
manship,  and  both  of  us  are  seamen.  If  we  don't  find 
the  time,  we'll  lay  in  the  books  and  instruments  and 
teach  ourselves  navigation  on  the  ocean  between  San 
Francisco  and  Hawaii. 

There  is  one  unfortunate  and  perplexing  phase  of 
the  voyage  of  the  Snark.  Roscoe,  who  is  to  be  my 
co-navigator,  is  a  follower  of  one,  Cyrus  R.  Teed. 
Now  Cyrus  R.  Teed  has  a  different  cosmology  from 
the  one  generally  accepted,  and  Roscoe  shares  his 
views.  Wherefore  Roscoe  believes  that  the  surface  of 
the  earth  is  concave  and  that  we  live  on  the  inside  of 
a  hollow  sphere.  Thus,  though  we  shall  sail  on  the 
one  boat,  the  Snark,  Roscoe  will  journey  around  the 
world  on  the  inside,  while  I  shall  journey  around  on 
the  outside.  But  of  this,  more  anon.  We  threaten 
to  be  of  the  one  mind  before  the  voyage  is  completed. 
I  am  confident  that  I  shall  convert  him  into  making 
the  journey  on  the  outside,  while  he  is  equally  confi 
dent  that  before  we  arrive  back  in  San  Francisco  I 
shall  be  on  the  inside  of  the  earth.  How  he  is  going 
to  get  me  through  the  crust  I  don't  know,  but  Roscoe 
is  ay  a  masterful  man. 

P.S.  —  That  engine  !  While  we've  got  it,  and  the 
dynamo,  and  the  storage  battery,  why  not  have  an  ice- 
machine  ?  Ice  in  the  tropics  !  It  is  more  necessary 
than  bread.  Here  goes  for  the  ice-machine  !  Now  I 
am  plunged  into  chemistry,  and  my  lips  hurt,  and  my 
mind  hurts,  and  how  am  1  ever  to  find  the  time  to 
study  navigation  ? 


CHAPTER    II 

The  Inconceivable  and  Monstrous 

"  SPARE  no  money,"  I  said  to  Roscoe.  "  Let 
everything  on  the  Snark  be  of  the  best.  And  never 
mind  decoration.  Plain  pine  boards  is  good  enough 
finishing  for  me.  But  put  the  money  into  the  con 
struction.  Let  the  Snark  be  as  stanch  and  strong  as 
any  boat  afloat.  Never  mind  what  it  costs  to  make 
her  stanch  and  strong ;  you  see  that  she  is  made 
stanch  and  strong  and  I'll  go  on  writing  and  earning 
the  money  to  pay  for  it." 

And  I  did  ...  as  well  as  I  could ;  for  the  Snark 
ate  up  money  faster  than  I  could  earn  it.  In  fact, 
every  little  while  I  had  to  borrow  money  with  which 
to  supplement  my  earnings.  Now  I  borrowed  one 
thousand  dollars,  now  I  borrowed  two  thousand  dollars, 
and  now  I  borrowed  five  thousand  dollars.  And  all 
the  time  I  went  on  working  every  day  and  sinking  the 
earnings  in  the  venture.  I  worked  Sundays  as  well, 
and  I  took  no  holidays.  But  it  was  worth  it.  Every 
time  I  thought  of  the  Snark  I  knew  she  was  worth  it. 

For  know,  gentle  reader,  the  stanchness  of  the 
Snark.  She  is  forty-five  feet  long  on  the  water-line. 
Her  garboard  strake  is  three  inches  thick  ;  her  plank 
ing  two  and  one-half  inches  thick  ;  her  deck-planking 
two  inches  thick  ;  and  in  all  her  planking  there  are  no 
butts.  I  know,  for  I  ordered  that  planking  especially 
from  Puget  Sound.  Then  the  Snark  has  four  water 
tight  compartments,  which  is  to  say  that  her  length  is 

16 


INCONCEIVABLE    AND    MONSTROUS     17 

broken  by  three  water-tight  bulkheads.  Thus,  no 
matter  how  large  a  leak  the  Snark  may  spring,  only 
one  compartment  can  fill  with  water.  The  other  three 
compartments  will  keep  her  afloat  anyway,  and,  besides, 
will  enable  us  to  mend  the  leak.  There  is  another 
virtue  in  these  bulkheads.  The  last  compartment  of 
all,  in  the  very  stern,  contains  six  tanks  that  carry  over 
one  thousand  gallons  of  gasolene.  Now  gasolene  is  a 
very  dangerous  article  to  carry  in  bulk  on  a  small 
craft  far  out  on  the  wide  ocean.  But  when  the  six 
tanks  that  do  not  leak  are  themselves  contained  in  a 
compartment  hermetically  sealed  off  from  the  rest  of 
the  boat,  the  danger  will  be  seen  to  be  very  small 
indeed. 

The  Snark  is  a  sail-boat.  She  was  built  primarily  to 
sail.  But  incidentally,  as  an  auxiliary,  a  seventy-horse 
power  engine  was  installed.  This  is  a  good,  strong 
engine.  I  ought  to  know.  I  paid  for  it  to  come  out 
all  the  way  from  New  York  City.  Then,  on  deck, 
above  the  engine,  is  a  windlass.  It  is  a  magnificent 
affair.  It  weighs  several  hundred  pounds  and  takes 
up  no  end  of  deck-room.  You  see,  it  is  ridiculous  to 
hoist  up  anchor  by  hand-power  when  there  is  a  seventy- 
horse-power  engine  on  board.  So  we  installed  the 
windlass,  transmitting  power  to  it  from  the  engine  by 
means  of  a  gear  and  castings  specially  made  in  a  San 
Francisco  foundry. 

The  Snark  was  made  for  comfort,  and  no  expense 
was  spared  in  this  regard.  There  is  the  bath-room,  for 
instance,  small  and  compact,  it  is  true,  but  containing 
all  the  conveniences  of  any  bath-room  upon  land.  The 
bath-room  is  a  beautiful  dream  of  schemes  and  devices, 
pumps,  and  levers,  and  sea-valves.  Why,  in  the  course 


,A   V5  ^ 


i8       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

of  its  building,  I  used  to  lie  awake  nights  thinking  about 
that  bath-room.  And  next  to  the  bath-room  come  the 
life-boat  and  the  launch.  They  are  carried  on  deck, 
and  they  take  up  what  little  space  might  have  been  left 
us  for  exercise.  But  then,  they  beat  life  insurance ; 
and  the  prudent  man,  even  if  he  has  built  as  stanch 
and  strong  a  craft  as  the  Snark,  will  see  to  it  that  he 
has  a  good  life-boat  as  well.  And  ours  is  a  good  one. 
It  is  a  dandy.  It  was  stipulated  to  cost  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars,  and  when  I  came  to  pay  the  bill,  it 
turned  out  to  be  three  hundred  and  ninety-five  dollars. 
That  shows  how  good  a  life-boat  it  is. 

I  could  go  on  at  great  length  relating  the  various 
virtues  and  excellences  of  the  Snark,  but  I  refrain.  I 
have  bragged  enough  as  it  is,  and  I  have  bragged  to  a 
purpose,  as  will  be  seen  before  my  tale  is  ended.  And 
please  remember  its  title,  "  The  Inconceivable  and 
Monstrous."  It  was  planned  that  the  Snark  should 
sail  on  October  i,  1906.  That  she  did  not  so  sail 
was  inconceivable  and  monstrous.  There  was  no  valid 
reason  for  not  sailing  except  that  she  was  not  ready  to 
sail,  and  there  was  no  conceivable  reason  why  she  was 
not  ready.  She  was  promised  on  November  first,  on 
November  fifteenth,  on  December  first ;  and  yet  she 
was  never  ready.  On  December  first  Charmian  and  I 
left  the  sweet,  clean  Sonoma  country  and  came  down 
to  live  in  the  stifling  city  —  but  not  for  long,  oh,  no, 
only  for  two  weeks,  for  we  would  sail  on  Decem 
ber  fifteenth.  And  I  guess  we  ought  to  know,  for 
Roscoe  said  so,  and  it  was  on  his  advice  that  we 
came  to  the  city  to  stop  two  weeks.  Alas,  the  two 
weeks  went  by,  four  weeks  went  by,  six  weeks  went 
by,  eight  weeks  went  by,  and  we  were  farther  away 


INCONCEIVABLE    AND    MONSTROUS     19 

from  sailing  than  ever.  Explain  it?  Who?  —  me? 
I  can't.  It  is  the  one  thing  in  all  my  life  that  I  have 
backed  down  on.  There  is  no  explaining  it ;  if  there 
were,  I'd  do  it.  I,  who  am  an  artisan  of  speech, 
confess  my  inability  to  explain  why  the  Snark  was  not 
ready.  As  I  have  said,  and  as  I  must  repeat,  it  was 
inconceivable  and  monstrous. 

The  eight  weeks  became  sixteen  weeks,  and  then, 
one  day,  Roscoe  cheered  us  up  by  saying : 

"  If  we  don't  sail  before  April  first,  you  can  use  my 
head  for  a  foot-ball." 

Two  weeks  later  he  said,  "  I'm  getting  my  head  in 
training  for  that  match." 

"  Never  mind,"  Charmian  and  I  said  to  each  other ; 
"  think  of  the  wonderful  boat  it  is  going  to  be  when  it 
is  completed." 

Whereat  we  would  rehearse  for  our  mutual  encour 
agement  the  manifold  virtues  and  excellences  of  the 
Snark.  Also,  I  would  borrow  more  money,  and  I  would 
get  down  closer  to  my  desk  and  write  harder,  and  I 
refused  heroically  to  take  a  Sunday  off  and  go  out  into 
the  hills  with  my  friends.  I  was  building  a  boat,  and 
by  the  eternal  it  was  going  to  be  a  boat,  and  a  boat 
spelled  out  all  in  capitals  —  B— O— A— T  ;  and  no  mat 
ter  what  it  cost  I  didn't  care,  so  long  as  it  was  a 
BOAT. 

And,  oh,  there  is  one  other  excellence  of  the  Snark, 
upon  which  I  must  brag,  namely,  her  bow.  No  sea 
could  ever  come  over  it.  It  laughs  at  the  sea,  that 
bow  does  ;  it  challenges  the  sea  ;  it  snorts  defiance  at 
the  sea.  And  withal  it  is  a  beautiful  bow ;  the  lines 
of  it  are  dreamlike ;  I  doubt  if  ever  a  boat  was  blessed 
with  a  more  beautiful  and  at  the  same  time  a  more  ca- 


20       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

pable  bow.  It  was  made  to  punch  storms.  To  touch 
that  bow  is  to  rest  one's  hand  on  the  cosmic  nose  of 
things.  To  look  at  it  is  to  realize  that  expense  cut  no 
figure  where  it  was  concerned.  And  every  time  our 
sailing  was  delayed,  or  a  new  expense  was  tacked  on, 
we  thought  of  that  wonderful  bow  and  were  content. 

The  Snark  is  a  small  boat.  When  I  figured  seven 
thousand  dollars  as  her  generous  cost,  I  was  both  gen 
erous  and  correct.  I  have  built  barns  and  houses,  and 
I  know  the  peculiar  trait  such  things  have  of  running 
past  their  estimated  cost.  This  knowledge  was  mine, 
was  already  mine,  when  I  estimated  the  probable  cost 
of  the  building  of  the  Snark  at  seven  thousand  dollars. 
Well,  she  cost  thirty  thousand.  Now  don't  ask  me, 
please.  It  is  the  truth.  I  signed  the  checks  and  I 
raised  the  money.  Of  course  there  is  no  explaining  it. 
Inconceivable  and  monstrous  is  what  it  is,  as  you  will 
agree,  I  know,  ere  my  tale  is  done. 

Then  there  was  the  matter  of  delay.  I  dealt  with 
forty-seven  different  kinds  of  union  men  and  with  one 
hundred  and  fifteen  different  firms.  And  not  one  union 
man  and  not  one  firm  of  all  the  union  men  and  all 
the  firms  ever  delivered  anything  at  the  time  agreed 
upon,  nor  ever  was  on  time  for  anything  except  pay 
day  and  bill-collection.  Men  pledged  me  their  im 
mortal  souls  that  they  would  deliver  a  certain  thing 
on  a  certain  date  ;  as  a  rule,  after  such  pledging,  they 
rarely  exceeded  being  three  months  late  in  delivery. 
And  so  it  went,  and  Charmian  and  I  consoled  each 
other  by  saying  what  a  splendid  boat  the  Snark  was,  so 
stanch  and  strong ;  also,  we  would  get  into  the  small 
boat  and  row  around  the  Snark,  and  gloat  over  her 
unbelievably  wonderful  bow. 


INCONCEIVABLE   AND    MONSTROUS     21 


"  Think,"  I  would  say  to  Charmian,  "of  a  gale  off  the 
China  coast,  and  of  the  Snark  hove  to,  that  splendid 
bow  of  hers  driving  into  the  storm.  Not  a  drop  will 
come  over  that  bow.  She'll  be  as  dry  as  a  feather, 
and  we'll  be  all 
below  playing 
whist  while  the 
gale  howls." 

And  Charmian 
would  press  my 
hand  enthusiasti 
cally  and  exclaim : 
"It's  worth  every 
bit  of  it  —  the 
delay,  and  ex 
pense,  and  worry, 
and  all  the  rest. 
Oh,  what  a  truly 
wonderful  boat !  " 

Whenever  I 
looked  at  the  bow 
of  the  Snark  or 
thought  of  her 
water-tight  com 
partments,  I  was 
encouraged.  Nobody  else,  however,  was  encouraged. 
My  friends  began  to  make  bets  against  the  various 
sailing  dates  of  the  Snark.  Mr.  Wiget,  who  was  left 
behind  in  charge  of  our  Sonoma  ranch,  was  the  first  to 
cash  his  bet.  He  collected  on  New  Year's  Day,  1907. 
After  that  the  bets  came  fast  and  furious.  My  friends 
surrounded  me  like  a  gang  of  harpies,  making  bets 
against  every  sailing  date  I  set.  I  was  rash,  and  I  was 


Charmian  and  the  Skipper. 


22       THE    CRUISE  .XMtViTHE    SNARK 

stubborn.  I  bet,  and  I  bet,  and  I  continued  to  bet ; 
and  I  paid  them  all.  Why,  the  womenkind  of  my 
friends  grew  so  brave  that  those  among  them  who 
never  bet  before  began  to  bet  with  me.  And  I  paid 
them,  too. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Charmian  to  me  ;  "just  think 
of  that  bow  and  of  being  hove  to  on  the  China  Seas." 

"  You  see,"  I  said  to  my  friends,  when  I  paid  the 
latest  bunch  of  wagers,  "  neither  trouble  nor  cash  is 
being  spared  in  making  the  Snark  the  most  seaworthy 
craft  that  ever  sailed  out  through  the  Golden  Gate  — 
that  is  what  causes  all  the  delay." 

In  the  meantime  editors  and  publishers  with  whom 
I  had  contracts  pestered  me  with  demands  for  explana 
tions.  But  how  could  I  explain  to  them,  when  I  was 
unable  to  explain  to  myself,  or  when  there  was  nobody, 
not  even  Roscoe,  to  explain  to  me  ?  The  newspapers 
began  to  laugh  at  me,  and  to  publish  rhymes  anent 
the  Snark' s  departure  with  refrains  like,  "  Not  yet  but 
soon."  And  Charmian  cheered  me  up  by  reminding 
me  of  the  bow,  and  I  went  to  a  banker  and  borrowed 
five  thousand  more.  There  was  one  recompense  for 
the  delay,  however.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  happens 
to  be  a  critic,  wrote  a  roast  of  me,  of  all  I  had  done, 
and  of  all  I  ever  was  going  to  do  ;  and  he  planned  to 
have  it  published  after  I  was  out  on  the  ocean.  I  was 
still  on  shore  when  it  came  out,  and  he  has  been  busy 
explaining  ever  since. 

And  the  time  continued  to  go  by.  One  thing  was 
becoming  apparent,  namely,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
finish  the  Snark  in  San  Francisco.  She  had  been  so 
long  in  the  building  that  she  was  beginning  to  break 
down  and  wear  out.  In  fact,  she  had  reached  the 


INCONCEIVABLE   AND    MONSTROUS     23 

stage  where  she  was  breaking  down  faster  than  she 
could  be  repaired.  She  had  become  a  joke.  Nobody 
took  her  seriously ;  least  of  all  the  men  who  worked 
on  her.  I  said  we  would  sail  just  as  she  was  and  finish 
building  her  in  Honolulu.  Promptly  she  sprang  a 
leak  that  had  to  be  attended  to  before  we  could  sail. 
I  started  her  for  the  boat-ways.  Before  she  got  to 
them  she  was  caught  between  two  huge  barges  and  re 
ceived  a  vigorous  crushing.  We  got  her  on  the  ways, 
and,  part  way  along,  the  ways  spread  and  dropped  her 
through,  stern-first,  into  the  mud. 

It  was  a  pretty  tangle,  a  job  for  wreckers,  not  boat- 
builders.  There  are  two  high  tides  every  twenty-four 
hours,  and  at  every  high  tide,  night  and  day,  for  a 
week,  there  were  two  steam  tugs  pulling  and  hauling 
on  the  Snark.  There  she  was,  stuck,  fallen  between 
the  ways  and  standing  on  her  stern.  Next,  and  while 
still  in  that  predicament,  we  started  to  use  the  gears 
and  castings  made  in  the  local  foundry  whereby  power 
was  conveyed  from  the  engine  to  the  windlass.  It  was 
the  first  time  we  ever  tried  to  use  that  windlass.  The 
castings  had  flaws  ;  they  shattered  asunder,  the  gears 
ground  together,  and  the  windlass  was  out  of  commis 
sion.  Following  upon  that,  the  seventy-horse-power 
engine  went  out  of  commission.  This  engine  came 
from  New  York  ;  so  did  its  bed-plate  ;  there  was  a 
flaw  in  the  bed-plate  ;  there  were  a  lot  of  flaws  in  the 
bed-plate ;  and  the  seventy-horse-power  engine  broke 
away  from  its  shattered  foundations,  reared  up  in  the 
air,  smashed  all  connections  and  fastenings,  and  fell 
over  on  its  side.  And  the  Snark  continued  to  stick 
between  the  spread  ways,  and  the  two  tugs  continued 
to  haul  vainly  upon  her. 


24       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Charmian,  "think  of  what  a 
stanch,  strong  boat  she  is." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "and  of  that  beautiful  bow." 

So  we  took  heart  and  went  at  it  again.  The  ruined 
engine  was  lashed  down  on  its  rotten  foundation  ;  the 
smashed  castings  and  cogs  of  the  power  transmission 
were  taken  down  and  stored  away  —  all  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  them  to  Honolulu  where  repairs  and  new 
castings  could  be  made.  Somewhere  in  the  dim  past 
the  Snark  had  received  on  the  outside  one  coat  of  white 
paint.  The  intention  of  the  color  was  still  evident, 
however,  when  one  got  it  in  the  right  light.  The 
Snark  had  never  received  any  paint  on  the  inside.  On 
the  contrary,  she  was  coated  inches  thick  with  the 
grease  and  tobacco-juice  of  the  multitudinous  mechanics 
who  had  toiled  upon  her.  Never  mind,  we  said ;  the 
grease  and  filth  could  be  planed  off,  and  later,  when 
we  fetched  Honolulu,  the  Snark  could  be  painted  at 
the  same  time  she  was  being  rebuilt. 

By  main  strength  and  sweat  we  dragged  the  Snark 
off  from  the  wrecked  ways  and  laid  her  alongside  the 
Oakland  City  Wharf.  The  drays  brought  all  the 
outfit  from  home,  the  books  and  blankets  and  personal 
luggage.  Along  with  this,  everything  else  came  on 
board  in  a  torrent  of  confusion — wood  and  coal,  water 
and  water-tanks,  vegetables,  provisions,  oil,  the  life-boat 
and  the  launch,  all  our  friends,  all  the  friends  of  our 
friends  and  those  who  claimed  to  be  their  friends,  to  say 
nothing  of  some  of  the  friends  of  the  friends  of  the  friends 
of  our  crew.  Also  there  were  reporters,  and  photogra 
phers,  and  strangers,  and  cranks,  and  finally,  and  over 
all,  clouds  of  coal-dust  from  the  wharf. 

We  were  to  sail  Sunday  at  eleven,  and  Saturday  after- 


INCONCEIVABLE   AND    MONSTROUS     25 

noon  had  arrived.  The  crowd  on  the  wharf  and  the 
coal-dust  were  thicker  than  ever.  In  one  pocket  I 
carried  a  check-book,  a  fountain-pen,  a  dater,  and  a 
blotter  ;  in  another  pocket  I  carried  between  one  and 
two  thousand  dollars  in  paper  money  and  gold.  I  was 
ready  for  the  creditors,  cash  for  the  small  ones  and 


Taking  on  Stores  at  Oakland  City  Wharf. 

checks  for  the  large  ones,  and  was  waiting  only  for  Ros- 
coe  to  arrive  with  the  balances,  of  the  accounts  of  the 
hundred  and  fifteen  firms  who  had  delayed  me  so  many 
months.  And  then  - 

And  then  the  inconceivable  and  monstrous  hap 
pened  once  more.  Before  Roscoe  could  arrive  there 
arrived  another  man.  He  was  a  United  States 
marshal.  He  tacked  a  notice  on  the  Snark's  brave 


26       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

mast  so  that  all  on  the  wharf  could  read  that  the  Snark 
had  been  libelled  for  debt.  The  marshal  left  a  little  old 
man  in  charge  of  the  Snark,  and  himself  went  away. 
I  had  no  longer  any  control  of  the  Snark^  nor  of  her 
wonderful  bow.  The  little  old  man  was  now  her  lord 
and  master,  and  I  learned  that  I  was  paying  him  three 
dollars  a  day  for  being  lord  and  master.  Also,  I  learned 
the  name  of  the  man  who  had  libelled  the  Snark.  It 
was  Sellers;  the  debt  was  two  hundred  and  thirty-two 
dollars;  and  the  deed  was  no  more  than  was  to  be  expected 
from  the  possessor  of  such  a  name.  Sellers  !  Ye  gods ! 
Sellers  ! 

But  who  under  the  sun  was  Sellers  ?  I  looked  in 
my  check-book  and  saw  that  two  weeks  before  I  had 
made  him  out  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars.  Other 
check-books  showed  me  that  during  the  many  months 
of  the  building  of  the  Snark  I  had  paid  him  several 
thousand  dollars.  Then  why  in  the  name  of  common 
decency  hadn't  he  tried  to  collect  his  miserable  little 
balance  instead  of  libelling  the  Snark  ?  I  thrust  my 
hands  into  my  pockets,  and  in  one  pocket  encountered 
the  check-book  and  the  dater  and  the  pen,  and  in  the 
other  pocket  the  gold  money  and  the  paper  money. 
There  was  the  wherewithal  to  settle  his  pitiful  account 
a  few  score  of  times  and  over  —  why  hadn't  he  given 
me  a  chance  ?  There  was  no  explanation ;  it  was 
merely  the  inconceivable  and  monstrous. 

To  make  the  matter  worse,  the  Snark  had  been  li 
belled  late  Saturday  afternoon;  and  though  I  sent  law 
yers  and  agents  all  over  Oakland  and  San  Francisco, 
neither  United  States  judge,  nor  United  States  mar 
shal,  nor  Mr.  Sellers,  nor  Mr.  Sellers'  attorney,  nor 
anybody  could  be  found.  They  were  all  out  of  town 


INCONCEIVABLE   AND    MONSTROUS     27 

for  the  week  end.  And  so  theSnark  did  not  sail  Sunday 
morning  at  eleven.  The  little  old  man  was  still  in 
charge,  and  he  said  no.  And  Charmian  and  I  walked 
out  on  an  opposite  wharf  and  took  consolation  in  the 
Snark's  wonderful  bow  and  thought  of  all  the  gales  and 
typhoons  it  would  proudly  punch. 

"  A  bourgeois  trick,"  I  said  to  Charmian,  speaking 
of  Mr.  Sellers  and  his  libel ;  "  a  petty  trader's  panic. 
But  nevermind;  our  troubles  will  cease  when  once  we 
are  away  from  this  and  out  on  the  wide  ocean." 

And  in  the  end  we  sailed  away,  on  Tuesday  morning, 
April  23,  1907.  We  started  rather  lame,  I  confess. 
We  had  to  hoist  anchor  by  hand,  because  the  power 
transmission  was  a  wreck.  Also,  what  remained  of  our 
seventy-horse-power  engine  was  lashed  down  for  bal 
last  on  the  bottom  of  the  Snark.  But  what  of  such 
things  ?  They  could  be  fixed  in  Honolulu,  and  in  the 
meantime  think  of  the  magnificent  rest  of  the  boat ! 
It  is  true,  the  engine  in  the  launch  wouldn't  run,  and 
the  life-boat  leaked  like  a  sieve ;  but  then  they  weren't 
the  Snark  ;  they  were  mere  appurtenances.  The  things 
that  counted  were  the  water-tight  bulkheads,  the  solid 
planking  without  butts,  the  bath-room  devices  —  they 
were  the  Snark.  And  then  there  was,  greatest  of  all, 
that  noble,  wind-punching  bow. 

We  sailed  out  through  the  Golden  Gate  and  set  our 
course  south  toward  that  part  of  the  Pacific  where  we 
could  hope  to  pick  up  with  the  northeast  trades.  And 
right  away  things  began  to  happen.  I  had  calculated 
that  youth  was  the  stuff  for  a  voyage  like  that  of  the 
Snark,  and  I  had  taken  three  youths  —  the  engineer, 
the  cook,  and  the  cabin-boy.  My  calculation  was 
only  two-thirds  off;  I  had  forgotten  to  calculate  on 


28       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

seasick  youth,  and  I  had  two  of  them,  the  cook  and 
the  cabin-boy.  They  immediately  took  to  their  bunks, 
and  that  was  the  end  of  their  usefulness  for  a  week  to 
come.  It  will  be  understood,  from  the  foregoing,  that 
we  did  not  have  the  hot  meals  we  might  have  had,  nor 
were  things  kept  clean  and  orderly  down  below.  But 
it  did  not  matter  very  much  anyway,  for  we 
quickly  discovered  that  our  box  of  oranges  had  at 
some  time  been  frozen  ;  that  our  box  of  apples  was 
mushy  and  spoiling  ;  that  the  crate  of  cabbages,  spoiled 
before  it  was  ever  delivered  to  us,  had  to  go  overboard 
instanter ;  that  kerosene  had  been  spilled  on  the  carrots, 
and  that  the  turnips  were  woody  and  the  beets  rotten, 
while  the  kindling  was  dead  wood  that  wouldn't  burn, 
and  the  coal,  delivered  in  rotten  potato-sacks,  had  spilled 
all  over  the  deck  and  was  washing  through  the  scup 
pers. 

But  what  did  it  matter  ?  Such  things  were  mere  ac 
cessories.  There  was  the  boat  —  she  was  all  right, 
wasn't  she  ?  I  strolled  along  the  deck  and  in  one  minute 
counted  fourteen  butts  in  the  beautiful  planking  or 
dered  specially  from  Puget  Sound  in  order  that  there 
should  be  no  butts  in  it.  Also,  that  deck  leaked,  and  it 
leaked  badly.  It  drowned  Roscoe  out  of  his  bunk  and 
ruined  the  tools  in  the  engine-room,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  provisions  it  ruined  in  the  galley.  Also,  the  sides  of 
the  Snark  leaked,  and  the  bottom  leaked,  and  we  had  to 
pump  her  every  day  to  keep  her  afloat.  The  floor  of 
the  galley  is  a  couple  of  feet  above  the  inside  bottom 
of  the  Snark ;  and  yet  I  have  stood  on  the  floor  of  the 
galley,  trying  to  snatch  a  cold  bite,  and  been  wet  to  the 
knees  by  the  water  churning  around  inside  four  hours 
after  the  last  pumping. 


INCONCEIVABLE    AND    MONSTROUS     29 

Then  those  rtfagnificent  water-tight  compartments 
that  cost  so  muck  time  and  money  —  well,  they  weren't 
water-tight  after  all.  The  water  moved  free  as  the  air 
from  one  compartment  to  another ;  furthermore,  a 
strong  smell  of  gasolene  from  the  after  compartment 
leads  me  to  suspect  that  some  one  or  more  of  the  half- 
dozen  tanks  there  stored  have  sprung  a  leak.  The 
tanks  leak,  and  they  are  not  hermetically  sealed  in  their 
compartment.  Then  there  was  the  bath-room  with  its 
pumps  and  levers  and  sea-valves  —  it  went  out  of  com 
mission  inside  the  first  twenty  hours.  Powerful  iron 
levers  broke  off  short  in  one's  hand  when  one  tried  to 
pump  with  them.  The  bath-room  was  the  swiftest 
wreck  of  any  portion  of  the  Snark. 

And  the  iron-work  on  the  Snark^  no  matter  what  its 
source,  proved  to  be  mush.  For  instance,  the  bed-plate 
of  the  engine  came  from  New  York,  and  it  was  mush  ; 
so  were  the  casting  and  gears  for  the  windlass  that  came 
from  San  Francisco.  And  finally,  there  was  the 
wrought  iron  used  in  the  rigging,  that  carried  away  in 
all  directions  when  the  first  strains  were  put  upon  it. 
Wrought  iron,  mind  you,  and  it  snapped  like  macaroni. 

A  gooseneck  on  the  gaff  of  the  mainsail  broke  short 
off.  We  replaced  it  with  the  gooseneck  from  the  gaff 
of  the  storm  trysail,  and  the  second  gooseneck  broke 
short  off  inside  fifteen  minutes  of  use,  and,  mind  you,  it 
had  been  taken  from  the  gaff  of  the  storm  trysail,  upon 
which  we  would  have  depended  in  time  of  storm.  At 
the  present  moment  the  Snark  trails  her  mainsail  like  a 
broken  wing,  the  gooseneck  being  replaced  by  a  rough 
lashing.  We'll  see  if  we  can  get  honest  iron  in 
Honolulu. 

Man  had  betrayed  us  and  sent  us  to  sea  in  a  sieve, 


30       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

but  the  Lord  must  have  loved  us,  for  we  had  calm 
weather  in  which  to  learn  that  we  must  pump  every 
day  in  order  to  keep  afloat,  and  that  more  trust  could 
be  placed  in  a  wooden  toothpick  than  in  the  most 
massive  piece  of  iron  to  be  found  aboard.  As  the 
stanchness  and  the  strength  of  the  Snark  went  glim 
mering,  Charmian  and  I  pinned  our  faith  more  and 
more  to  the  Snark' s  wonderful  bow.  There  was  noth 
ing  else  left  to  pin  to.  It  was  all  inconceivable  and 
monstrous,  we  knew,  but  that  bow,  at  least,  was  ra 
tional.  And  then,  one  evening,  we  started  to  heave 
to. 

How  shall  I  describe  it?  First  of  all,  for  the  bene 
fit  of  the  tyro,  let  me  explain  that  heaving  to  is  that 
sea  manoeuvre  which,  by  means  of  short  and  balanced 
canvas,  compels  a  vessel  to  ride  bow-on  to  wind  and 
sea.  When  the  wind  is  too  strong,  or  the  sea  is  too 
high,  a  vessel  of  the  size  of  the  Snark  can  heave  to 
with  ease,  whereupon  there  is  no  more  work  to  do  on 
deck.  Nobody  needs  to  steer.  The  lookout  is  super- 
flous.  All  hands  can  go  below  and  sleep  or  play  whist. 

Well,  it  was  blowing  half  of  a  small  summer  gale, 
when  I  told  Roscoe  we'd  heave  to.  Night  was  com 
ing  on.  I  had  been  steering  nearly  all  day,  and 
all  hands  on  deck  (Roscoe  and  Bert  and  Charmian) 
were  tired,  while  all  hands  below  were  seasick.  It 
happened  that  we  had  already  put  two  reefs  in  the 
big  mainsail.  The  flying-jib  and  the  jib  were  taken 
in,  and  a  reef  put  in  the  forestaysail.  The  mizzen  was 
also  taken  in.  About  this  time  the  flying  jib-boom 
buried  itself  in  a  sea  and  broke  short  off.  I  started  to 
put  the  wheel  down  in  order  to  heave  to.  The  Snark 
at  the  moment  was  rolling  in  the  trough.  She  contin- 


INCONCEIVABLE   AND    MONSTROUS     31 


ued  rolling  in  the  trough.  I  put  the  spokes  down 
harder  and  harder.  She  never  budged  from  the 
trough.  (The  trough,  gentle  reader,  is  the  most 
dangerous  position  of  all  in  which  to  lay  a  vessel.) 
I  put  the  wheel  hard  down,  and  still  the  Snark  rolled 
in  the  trough.  Eight  points  was  the  nearest  I  could 
get  her  to  the  wind.  I  had  Roscoe  and  Bert  come 


Our  Head-sails. 

in  on  the  main-sheet.  The  Snark  rolled  on  in  the 
trough,  now  putting  her  rail  under  on  one  side  and 
now  under  on  the  other  side. 

Again  the  inconceivable  and  monstrous  was  showing 
its  grizzly  head.  It  was  grotesque,  impossible.  I  re 
fused  to  believe  it.  Under  double-reefed  mainsail  and 
single-reefed  staysail  the  Snark  refused  to  heave  to. 
We  flattened  the  mainsail  down.  It  did  not  alter  the 
Snark 's  course  a  tenth  of  a  degree.  We  slacked  the 
mainsail  off  with  no  more  result.  We  set  a  storm 


32       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

trysail  on  the  mizzen,  and  took  in  the  mainsail.  No 
change.  The  Snark  rolled  on  in  the  trough.  That 
beautiful  bow  of  hers  refused  to  come  up  and  face  the 
wind. 

Next  we  took  in  the  reefed  staysail.  Thus,  the 
only  bit  of  canvas  left  on  her  was  the  storm  trysail  on 
the  mizzen.  If  anything  would  bring  her  bow  up  to 
the  wind,  that  would.  Maybe  you  won't  believe  me 
when  I  say  it  failed,  but  I  do  say  it  failed.  And  I  say 
it  failed  because  I  saw  it  fail,  and  not  because  I  believe 
it  failed.  I  don't  believe  it  did  fail.  It  is  unbelievable, 
and  I  am  not  telling  you  what  I  believe  ;  I  am  telling 
you  what  I  saw. 

Now,  gentle  reader,  what  would  you  do  if  you  were 
on  a  small  boat,  rolling  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  a  try 
sail  on  that  small  boat's  stern  that  was  unable  to  swing 
the  bow  up  into  the  wind  ?  Get  out  the  sea-anchor. 
It's  just  what  we  did.  We  had  a  patent  one,  made  to 
order  and  warranted  not  to  dive.  Imagine  a  hoop  of 
steel  that  serves  to  keep  open  the  mouth  of  a  large, 
conical,  canvas  bag,  and  you  have  a  sea-anchor.  Well, 
we  made  a  line  fast  to  the  sea-anchor  and  to  the  bow 
of  the  Snark,  and  then  dropped  the  sea-anchor  over 
board.  It  promptly  dived.  We  had  a  tripping  line 
on  it,  so  we  tripped  the  sea-anchor  and  hauled  it  in. 
We  attached  a  big  timber  as  a  float,  and  dropped  the 
sea-anchor  over  again.  This  time  it  floated.  The 
line  to  the  bow  grew  taut.  The  trysail  on  the  mizzen 
tended  to  swing  the  bow  into  the  wind,  but,  in  spite  of 
this  tendency,  the  Snark  calmly  took  that  sea-anchor 
in  her  teeth,  and  went  on  ahead,  dragging  it  after  her, 
still  in  the  trough  of  the  sea.  And  there  you  are. 
We  even  took  in  the  trysail,  hoisted  the  full  mizzen 


INCONCEIVABLE    AND    MONSTROUS 


33 


in  its  place,  and  hauled  the  full  mizzen  down  flat,  and 
the  Snark  wallowed  in  the  trough  and  dragged  the  sea- 
anchor     behind 
her.     Don't  be 
lieve      me. 
don't  believe 
myself.      I 


I 
it 

am 

merely  telling 
you  what  I  saw. 
Now  I  leave 
it  to  you.  Who 
ever  heard  of 
a  sailing-boat 
that  wouldn't 
heave  to?  —  that 
Wouldn't  heave 
to  with  a  sea- 
anchor  to  help 
it  ?  Out  of  my 
brief  experience 
with  boats  I 
know  I  never 
did.  And  I 
stood  on  deck 
and  looked  on 
the  naked  face 
of  the  inconceiv 
able  and  mon- 
strous  —  the 
Snark  that  wouldn't  heave  to.  A  stormy  night  with 
broken  moonlight  had  come  on.  There  was  a  splash 
of  wet  in  the  air,  and  up  to  windward  there  was  a  prom 
ise  of  rain-squalls;  and  then  there  was  the  trough  of 


The  two  boats,  on  deck,  left  little  room. 


34       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

the  sea,  cold  and  cruel  in  the  moonlight,  in  which  the 
Snark  complacently  rolled.  And  then  we  took  in  the 
sea-anchor  and  the  mizzen,  hoisted  the  reefed  staysail, 
ran  the  Snark  off  before  it,  and  went  below  —  not  to 
the  hot  meal  that  should  have  awaited  us,  but  to  skate 
across  the  slush  and  slime  on  the  cabin  floor,  where 
cook  and  cabin-boy  lay  like  dead  men  in  their  bunks, 
and  to  lie  down  in  our  own  bunks,  with  our  clothes  on 
ready  for  a  call,  and  to  listen  to  the  bilge-water  spout 
ing  knee-high  on  the  galley  floor. 

In  the  Bohemian  Club  of  San  Francisco  there  are 
some  crack  sailors.  I  know,  because  I  heard  them 
pass  judgment  on  the  Snark  during  the  process  of  her 
building.  They  found  only  one  vital  thing  the  matter 
with  her,  and  on  this  they  were  all  agreed,  namely,  that 
she  could  not  run.  She  was  all  right  in  every  par 
ticular,  they  said,  except  that  I'd  never  be  able  to  run 
her  before  it  in  a  stiff  wind  and  sea.  "  Her  lines," 
they  explained  enigmatically,  "  it  is  the  fault  of  her 
lines.  She  simply  cannot  be  made  to  run,  that  is  all." 
Well,  I  wish  I'd  only  had  those  crack  sailors  of  the 
Bohemian  Club  on  board  the  Snark  the  other  night  for 
them  to  see  for  themselves  their  one,  vital,  unanimous 
judgment  absolutely  reversed.  Run  ?  It  is  the  one  thing 
the  Snark  does  to  perfection.  Run?  She  ran  with  a 
sea-anchor  fast  for'ard  and  a  full  mizzen  flattened  down 
aft.  Run  ?  At  the  present  moment,  as  I  write  this, 
we  are  bowling  along  before  it,  at  a  six-knot  clip,  in  the 
northeast  trades.  Quite  a  tidy  bit  of  sea  is  running. 
There  is  nobody  at  the  wheel,  the  wheel  is  not  even 
lashed  and  is  set  over  a  half-spoke  weather  helm.  To 
be  precise,  the  wind  is  northeast ;  the  Snark 's  mizzen  is 
furled,  her  mainsail  is  over  to  starboard,  her  head- 


INCONCEIVABLE    AND    MONSTROUS     35 

sheets  are  hauled  flat;  and  the  Snark' s  course  is  south- 
southwest.  And  yet  there  are  men  who  have  sailed 
the  seas  for  forty  years  and  who  hold  that  no  boat  can 
run  before  it  without  being  steered.  They'll  call  me  a 
liar  when  they  read  this ;  it's  what  they  called  Captain 
Slocum  when  he  said  the  same  of  his  Spray. 

As  regards  the  future  of  the  Snark  I'm  all  at  sea.  I 
don't  know.  If  I  had  the  money  or  the  credit,  I'd 
build  another  Snark  that  would  heave  to.  But  I  am  at 
the  end  of  my  resources.  I've  got  to  put  up  with  the 
present  Snark  or  quit  —  and  I  can't  quit.  So  I  guess 
I'll  have  to  try  to  get  along  with  heaving  the  Snark 
to  stern-first.  I  am  waiting  for  the  next  gale  to  see 
how  it  will  work.  I  think  it  can  be  done.  It  all 
depends  on  how  her  stern  takes  the  seas.  And  who 
knows  but  that  some  wild  morning  on  the  China  Sea, 
some  gray-beard  skipper  will  stare,  rub  his  incredulous 
eyes  and  stare  again,  at  the  spectacle  of  a  weird,  small 
craft,  very  much  like  the  Snark,  hove  to  stern-first  and 
riding  out  the  gale  ? 

P.S.  On  my  return  to  California  after  the  voyage, 
I  learned  that  the  Snark  was  forty-three  feet  on  the 
water-line  instead  of  forty-five.  This  was  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  builder  was  not  on  speaking  terms 
with  the  tape-line  or  two-foot  rule. 


CHAPTER    II 

Adventure 

No,  adventure  is  not  dead,  and  in  spite  of  the  steam 
engine  and  of  Thomas  Cook  &  Son.  When  the  an 
nouncement  of  the  contemplated  voyage  of  the  Snark 
was  made,  young  men  of"  roving  disposition  "  proved 
to  be  legion,  and  young  women  as  well  —  to  say  nothing 
of  the  elderly  men  and  women  who  volunteered  for  the 
voyage.  Why,  among  my  personal  friends  there  were 
at  least  half  a  dozen  who  regretted  their  recent  or 
imminent  marriages  ;  and  there  was  one  marriage  I 
know  of  that  almost  failed  to  come  off  because  of  the 
Snark. 

Every  mail  to  me  was  burdened  with  the  letters  of 
applicants  who  were  suffocating  in  the  "  man-stifled 
towns,"  and  it  soon  dawned  upon  me  that  a  twentieth 
century  Ulysses  required  a  corps  of  stenographers  to 
clear  his  correspondence  before  setting  sail.  No,  ad 
venture  is  certainly  not  dead  —  not  while  one  receives 
letters  that  begin:  "There  is  no  doubt  that  when 
you  read  this  soul-plea  from  a  female  stranger  in  New 
York  City,"  etc. ;  and  wherein  one  learns,  a  little  farther 
on,  that  this  female  stranger  weighs  only  ninety  pounds, 
wants  to  be  cabin-boy,  and  "  yearns  to  see  the  countries 
of  the  world." 

The  possession  of  a  "  passionate  fondness  for  geog 
raphy,"  was  the  way  one  applicant  expressed  the  wan 
der-lust  that  was  in  him ;  while  another  wrote,  "  I 
am  cursed  with  an  eternal  yearning  to  be  always  on  the 

36 


ADVENTURE 


37 


move,  consequently  this  letter  to  you."  But  best  of 
all  was  the  fellow  who  said  he  wanted  to  come  because 
his  feet  itched. 

There  were  a  few  who  wrote  anonymously,  suggest 
ing  names  of  friends  and  giving  said  friends'  qualifica 
tions  ;  but  to  me  there  was  a  hint  of  something  sinister 

in    such    proceedings,    and    I    

went  no  further  in  the  matter. 

With  two  or  three  excep 
tions,  all  'the  hundreds  that 
volunteered  for  my  crew  were 
very  much  in  earnest.  Many 
of  them  sent  their  photo 
graphs.  Ninety  per  cent  of 
fered  to  work  in  any  capacity, 
and  ninety-nine  per  cent  of 
fered  to  work  without  salary. 
"  Contemplating  your  voyage 
on  the  Snar.k9"  said  one,  "and 
notwithstanding  its  attendant 
dangers,  to  accompany  you  (in 
any  capacity  whatever)  would 
be  the  climax  of  my  ambi 
tions/'  Which  reminds  me  of  the  young  fellow 
who  was  "  seventeen  years  old  and  ambicious,"  and 
who,  at  the  end  of  his  letter,  earnestly  requested  "  but 
please  do  not  let  this  git  into  the  papers  or  magazines." 
Quite  different  was  the  one  who  said,  "  I  would  be 
willingto  work  like  hell  and  not  demand  pay."  Almost 
all  of  them  wanted  me  to  telegraph,  at  their  expense, 
my  acceptance  of  their  services ;  and  quite  a  number 
offered  to  put  up  a  bond  to  guarantee  their  appearance 
on  sailing  date. 


The  Best  Adventurer  of  Them 
All. 


38       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

Some  were  rather  vague  in  their  own  minds  concern 
ing  the  work  to  be  done  on  the  Snark;  as,  for  instance, 
the  one  who  wrote :  "  I  am  taking  the  liberty  of  writ 
ing  you  this  note  to  find  out  if  there  would  be  any 
possibility  of  my  going  with  you  as  one  of  the  crew  of 
your  boat  to  make  sketches  and  illustrations."  Several, 
unaware  of  the  needful  work  on  a  small  craft  like  the 
Snark,  offered  to  serve,  as  one  of  them  phrased  it,  "  as 
assistant  in  filing  materials  collected  for  books  and 
novels."  That's  what  one  gets  for  being  prolific. 

"  Let  me  give  my  qualifications  for  the  job,"  wrote 
one.  "  I  am  an  orphan  living  with  my  uncle,  who  is 
a  hot  revolutionary  socialist  and  who  says  a  man  with 
out  the  red  blood  of  adventure  is  an  animated  dish-rag." 
Said  another  :  "  I  can  swim  some,  though  I  don't  know 
any  of  the  new  strokes.  But  what  is  more  important 
than  strokes,  the  water  is  a  friend  of  mine."  "  If  I 
was  put  alone  in  a  sail-boat,  I  could  get  her  anywhere 
I  wanted  to  go,"  was  the  qualification  of  a  third  —  and 
a  better  qualification  than  the  one  that  follows,  "  I  have 
also  watched  the  fish-boats  unload."  But  possibly  the 
prize  should  go  to  this  one,  who  very  subtly  conveys 
his  deep  knowledge  of  the  world  and  life  by  saying  : 
"  My  age,  in  years,  is  twenty-two." 

Then  there  were  the  simple,  straight-out,  homely, 
and  unadorned  letters  of  young  boys,  lacking  in  the 
felicities  of  expression,  it  is  true,  but  desiring  greatly 
to  make  the  voyage.  These  were  the  hardest  of  all  to 
decline,  and. each  time  I  declined  one  it  seemed  as  if  I 
had  struck  Youth  a  slap  in  the  face.  They  were  so 
earnest,  these  boys,  they  wanted  so  much  to  go.  "  I 
am  sixteen  but  large  for  my  age,"  said  one  ;  and  another, 
"  Seventeen  but  large  and  healthy."  "  I  am  as  strong 


ADVENTURE  39 

at  least  as  the  average  boy  of  my  size,"  said  an  evident 
weakling.  "  Not  afraid  of  any  kind  of  work,"  was 
what  many  said,  while  one  in  particular,  to  lure  me  no 
doubt  by  inexpensiveness,  wrote  :  "  I  can  pay  my  way 
to  the  Pacific  coast,  so  that  part  would  probably  be 
acceptable  to  you."  "  Going  around  the  world  is  the 
one  thing  I  want  to  do,"  said  one,  and  it  seemed  to  be 
the  one  thing  that  a  few  hundred  wanted  to  do.  "  I 

O 

have  no  one  who  cares  whether  I  go  or  not,"  was  the 
pathetic  note  sounded  by  another.  One  had  sent  his 
photograph,  and  speaking  of  it,  said,  "  I'm  a  homely- 
looking  sort  of  a  chap,  but  looks  don't  always  count." 
And  I  am  confident  that  the  lad  who  wrote  the  follow 
ing  would  have  turned  out  all  right :  "  My  age  is  19 
years,  but  I  am  rather  small  and  consequently  won't 
take  up  much  room,  but  I'm  tough  as  the  devil." 
And  there  was  one  thirteen-year-old  applicant  that 
Charmian  and  I  fell  in  love  with,  and  it  nearly  broke 
our  hearts  to  refuse  him. 

But  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  most  of  my  volun 
teers  were  boys  ;  on  the  contrary,  boys  constituted  a 
very  small  proportion.  There  were  men  and  women 
from  every  walk  in  life.  Physicians,  surgeons,  and 
dentists  offered  in  large  numbers  to  come  along,  and, 
like  all  the  professional  men,  offered  to  come  without 
pay,  to  serve  in  any  capacity,  and  to  pay,  even,  for  the 
privilege  of  so  serving. 

There  was  no  end  of  compositors  and  reporters  who 
wanted  to  come,  to  say  nothing  of  experienced  valets, 
chefs,  and  stewards.  Civil  engineers  were  keen  on  the 
voyage ;  "  lady  "  companions  galore  cropped  up  for 
Charmian  ;  while  I  was  deluged  with  the  applications 
of  would-be  private  secretaries.  Many  high  school 


40       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


and  university  students  yearned  for  the  voyage,  and 
every  trade  in  the  working  class  developed  a  few  appli 
cants,  the  machinists,  electricians,  and  engineers  being 

especially  strong  on 
the  trip.  I  was  sur 
prised  at  the  number, 
who,  in  musty  law  of 
fices,  heard  the  call  of 
adventure ;  and  I  was 
more  than  surprised  by 
the  number  of  elderly 
and  retired  sea  captains 
who  were  still  thralls 
to  the  sea.  Several 
young  fellows,  with 
millions  coming  to 
them  later  on,  were 
wild  for  the  adventure, 
as  were  also  several 
county  superintend 
ents  of  schools. 

Fathers  and  sons 
wanted  to  come,  and 
many  men  with  their 
wives,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  young  woman 
stenographer  who 

wrote  :  "  Write  immediately  if  you  need  me.  I  shall 
bring  my  typewriter  on  the  first  train.'*  But  the  best 
of  all  is  the  following  —  observe  the  delicate  way  in 
which  he  worked  in  his  wife :  "  I  thought  I  would 
drop  you  a  line  of  inquiry  as  to  the  possibility  of 
making  the  trip  with  you,  am  24  years  of  age,  mar- 


On  a  Level  Sea. 


ADVENTURE  41 

ried  *nd  broke,  and  a  trip  of  that  kind  would  be  just 
what\e  are  looking  for." 

Come  to  think  of  it,  for  the  average  man  it  must  be 
fairly  difficult  to  write  an  honest  letter  of  self-recom 
mendation.  One  of  my  correspondents  was  so  stumped 
that  he  began  his  letter  with  the  words,  "  This  is  a  hard 
task  "  ;  and,  after  vainly  trying  to  describe  his  good 
points,  he  wound  up  with,  "  It  is  a  hard  job  writing 
about  one's  self."  Nevertheless,  there  was  one  who 
gave  himself  a  most  glowing  and  lengthy  character, 
and  in  conclusion  stated  that  he  had  greatly  enjoyed 
writing  it. 

"  But  suppose  this  :  your  cabin-boy  could  run  your 
engine,  could  repair  it  when  out  of  order.  Suppose  he 
could  take  his  turn  at  the  wheel,  could  do  any  carpen 
ter  or  machinist  work.  Suppose  he  is  strong,  healthy, 
and  willing  to  work.  Would  you  not  rather  have  him 
than  a  kid  that  gets  seasick  and  can't  do  anything  but 
wash  dishes  ?  "  It  was  letters  of  this  sort  that  I  hated 
to  decline.  The  writer  of  it,  self-taught  in  English, 
had  been  only  two  years  in  the  United  States,  and,  as 
he  said,  "  I  am  not  wishing  to  go  with  you  to  earn  my 
living,  but  I  wish  to  learn  and  see."  At  the  time  of 
writing  to  me  he  was  a  designer  for  one  of  the  big 
motor  manufacturing  companies  ;  he  had  been  to  sea 
quite  a  bit,  and  had  been  used  all  his  life  to  the  hand 
ling  of  small  boats. 

"  I  have  a  good  position,  but  it  matters  not  so  with 
me  as  I  prefer  travelling,"  wrote  another.  "  As  to  sal 
ary,  look  at  me,  and  if  I  am  worth  a  dollar  or  two,  all 
right,  and  if  I  am  not,  nothing  said.  As  to  my  honesty 
and  character,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  show  you  my  em 
ployers.  Never  drink,  no  tobacco,  but  to  be  honest,  I 


42       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

myself,  after  a  little  more  experience,  want  to  do  a  little 
writing." 

"  I  can  assure  you  that  I  am  eminently  respectable, 
but  find  other  respectable  people  tiresome."  The 
man  who  wrote  the  foregoing  certainly  had  me  guess 
ing,  and  I  am  still  wondering  whether  or  not  he'd 
have  found  me  tiresome,  or  what  the  deuce  he  did 
mean. 

"  I  have  seen  better  days  than  what  I  am  passing 
through  to-day,"  wrote  an  old  salt,  "  but  I  have  seen 
them  a  great  deal  worse  also." 

But  the  willingness  to  sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the 
man  who  wrote  the  following  was  so  touching  that  I 
could  not  accept :  "  I  have  a. father,  a  mother,  brothers 
and  sisters,  dear  friends  and  a  lucrative  position,  and 
yet  I  will  sacrifice  all  to  become  one  of  your  crew." 

Another  volunteer  I  could  never  have  accepted  was 
the  finicky  young  fellow  who,  to  show  me  how  neces 
sary  it  was  that  I  should  give  him  a  chance,  pointed 
out  that  "  to  go  in  the  ordinary  boat,  be  it  schooner  or 
steamer,  would  be  impracticable,  for  I  would  have  to 
mix  among  and  live  with  the  ordinary  type  of  seamen, 
which  as  a  rule  is  not  a  clean  sort  of  life." 

Then  there  was  the  young  fellow  of  twenty-six,  who 
had  "  run  through  the  gamut  of  human  emotions/'  and 
had  "  done  everything  from  cooking  to  attending  Stan 
ford  University,"  and  who,  at  the  present  writing,  was 
"  A  vaquero  on  a  fifty-five-thousand-acre  range."  Quite 
in  contrast  was  the  modesty  of  the  one  who  said,  "  I 
am  not  aware  of  possessing  any  particular  qualities  that 
would  be  likely  to  recommend  me  to  your  consid 
eration.  But  should  you  be  impressed,  you  might 
consider  it  worth  a  few  minutes'  time  to  answer.  Other- 


ADVENTURE  43 

wise,  there's  always  work  at  the  trade.  Not  expecting, 
but  hoping,  I  remain,  etc.'' 

But  I  have  held  my  head  in  both  my  hands  ever 
since,  trying  to  figure  out  the  intellectual  kinship  be 
tween  myself  and  the  one  who  wrote  :  "  Long  before  I 
knew  of  you,  I  had  mixed  political  economy  and 
history  and  deducted  therefrom  many  of  your  conclu 
sions  in  concrete." 

Here,  in  its  way,  is  one  of  the  best,  as  it  is  the  brief 
est,  that  I  received  :  "  If  any  of  the  present  company 
signed  on  for  cruise  happens  to  get  cold  feet  and  you 
need  one  more  who  understands  boating,  engines,  etc., 
would  like  to  hear  from  you,  etc."  Here  is  another 
brief  one:  "Point  blank,  would  like  to  have  the  job 
of  cabin-boy  on  your  trip  around  the  world,  or  any 
other  job  on  board.  Am  nineteen  years  old,  weigh 
one  hundred  and  forty  pounds,  and  am  an  American." 

And  here  is  a  good  one  from  a  man  a  "  little  over 
five  feet  long "  :  "  When  I  read  about  your  manly 
plan  of  sailing  around  the  world  in  a  small  boat  with 
Mrs.  London,  I  was  so  much  rejoiced  that  I  felt  I  was 
planning  it  myself,  and  I  thought  to  write  you  about 
filling  either  position  of  cook  or  cabin-boy  myself,  but 
for  some  reason  I  did  not  do  it,  and  I  came  to  Denver 
from  Oakland  to  join  my  friend's  business  last  month, 
but  everything  is  worse  and  unfavorable.  But  fortu 
nately  you  have  postponed  your  departure  on  account 
of  the  great  earthquake,  so  I  finally  decided  to  propose 
you  to  let  me  fill  either  of  the  positions.  I  am  not 
very  strong,  being  a  man  of  a  little  over  five  feet  long, 
although  I  am  of  sound  health  and  capability." 

"  I  think  I  can  add  to  your  outfit  an  additional 
method  of  utilizing  the  power  of  the  wind,"  wrote  a 


44       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

well-wisher,  "  which,  while  not  interfering  with  ordinary 
sails  in  light  breezes,  will  enable  you  to  use  the  whole 
force  of  the  wind  in  its  mightiest  blows,  so  that  even 
when  its  force  is  so  great  that  you  may  have  to  take  in 
every  inch  of  canvas  used  in  the  ordinary  way,  you  may 
carry  the  fullest  spread  with  my  method.  With  my 
attachment  your  craft  could  not  be  UPSET." 

The  foregoing  letter  was  written  in  San  Francisco 
under  the  date  of  April  16,  1906.  And  two  days  later, 
on  April  1 8,  came  the  Great  Earthquake.  And  that's 
why  I've  got  it  in  for  that  earthquake,  for  it  made  a 
refugee  out  of  the  man  who  wrote  the  letter,  and  pre 
vented  us  from  ever  getting  together. 

Many  of  my  brother  socialists  objected  to  my  mak 
ing  the  cruise,  of  which  the  following  is  typical  :  "The 
Socialist  Cause  and  the  millions  of  oppressed  victims 
of  Capitalism  has  a  right  and  claim  upon  your  life  and 
services.  If,  however,  you  persist,  then,  when  you 
swallow  the  last  mouthful  of  salt  chuck  you  can  hold 
before  sinking,  remember  that  we  at  least  protested." 

One  wanderer  over  the  world  who  "could,  if  oppor 
tunity  afforded,  recount  many  unusual  scenes  and 
events,"  spent  several  pages  ardently  trying  to  get  to 
the  point  of  his  letter,  and  at  last  achieved  the  follow 
ing  :  "  Still  I  am  neglecting  the  point  I  set  out  to 
write  you  about.  So  will  say  at  once  that  it  has  been 
stated  in  print  that  you  and  one  or  two  others  are 
going  to  take  a  cruize  around  the  world  in  a  little  fifty- 
or  sixty-foot  boat.  I  therefore  cannot  get  myself  to 
think  that  a  man  of  your  attainments  and  experience 
would  attempt  such  a  proceeding,  which  is  nothing  less 
than  courting  death  in  that  way.  And  even  if  you 
were  to  escape  for  some  time,  your  whole  Person,  and 


ADVENTURE 


45 


those  with  you  would  be  bruised  from  the  ceaseless 
motion  of  a  craft  of  the  above  size,  even  if  she  were 
padded,  a  thing  not  usual  at  sea."  Thank  you,  kind 
friend,  thank  you 
for  that  qualifica 
tion,  "  a  thing  not 
usual  at  sea."  Nor 
is  this  friend  igno 
rant  of  the  sea.  As 
he  says  of  himself, 
"  I  am  not  a  land 
lubber,  and  I  have 
sailed  every  sea  and 
ocean."  And  he 
winds  up  his  letter 
with  :  "  Although 
not  wishing  to  of 
fend,  it  would  be 
madness  to  take  any 
woman  outside  the 
bay  even,  in  such  a 
craft." 

And  yet,  at  the 
moment  of  writing 
this,  Charmian  is 
in  her  state-room 
at  the  typewriter, 
Martin  is  cooking 
dinner,  Tochigi  is  setting  the  table,  Roscoe  and  Bert 
are  calking  the  deck,  and  the  Snark  is  steering  herself 
some  five  knots  an  hour  in  a  rattling  good  sea  —  and 
the  Snark  is  not  padded,  either. 

"  Seeing  a  piece  in  the  paper  about  your  intended 


The  Doldrums. 


46       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

trip,  would  like  to  know  if  you  would  like  a  good 
crew,  as  there  is  six  of  us  boys  all  good  sailor  men, 
with  good  discharges  from  the  Navy  and  Merchant 
Service,  all  true  Americans  all  between  the  ages  of  20 
and  22,  and  at  present  are  employed  as  riggers  at  the 
Union  Iron  Works,  and  would  like  very  mutch  to  sail 
with  you."  —  It  was  letters  like  this  that  made  me 
regret  the  boat  was  not  larger. 

And  here  writes  the  one  woman  in  all  the  world  — 
outside  of  Charmian  —  for  the  cruise  :  "If  you  have 
not  succeeded  in  getting  a  cook  I  would  like  very 
much  to  take  the  trip  in  that  capacity.  I  am  a  woman 
of  fifty,  healthy  and  capable,  and  can  do  the  work  for 
the  small  company  that  compose  the  crew  of  the  Snark. 
I  am  a  very  good  cook  and  a  very  good  sailor,  and 
something  of  a  traveller,  and  the  length  of  the  vovage, 
if  of  ten  years'  duration,  would  suit  me  better  than 
one.  References,  etc." 

Some  day,  when  I  have  made  a  lot  of  money,  I'm 
going  to  build  a  big  ship,  with  room  in  it  for  a  thou 
sand  volunteers.  They  will  have  to  do  all  the  work 
of  navigating  that  boat  around  the  world,  or  they'll 
stay  at  home.  I  believe  that  they'll  work  the  boat 
around  the  world,  for  I  know  that  Adventure  is  not 
dead.  I  know  Adventure  is  not  dead  because  I 
have  had  a  long  and  intimate  correspondence  with 
Adventure. 


CHAPTER    IV 
Finding  One's  Way  About 

"  BUT,"  our  friends  objected,  "  how  dare  you  go  to 
sea  without  a  navigator  on  board  ?  You're  not  a  navi 
gator,  are  you  ?  " 

I  had  to  confess  that  I  was  not  a  navigator,  that  I 
had  never  looked  through  a  sextant  in  my  life,  and 
that  I  doubted  if  I  could  tell  a  sextant  from  a  nautical 
almanac.  And  when  they  asked  if  Roscoe  was  a  navi 
gator,  I  shook  my  head.  Roscoe  resented  this.  He 
had  glanced  at  the  "  Epitome,"  bought  for  our  voyage, 
knew  how  to  use  logarithm  tables,  had  seen  a  sextant  at 
some  time,  and,  what  of  this  and  of  his  seafaring  ances 
try,  he  concluded  that  he  did  know  navigation.  But 
Roscoe  was  wrong,  I  still  insist.  When  a  young  boy 
he  came  from  Maine  to  California  by  way  of  the  Isth 
mus  of  Panama,  and  that  was  the  only  time  in  his  life 
that  he  was  out  of  sight  of  land.  He  had  never  gone 
to  a  school  of  navigation,  nor  passed  an  examination  in 
the  same  ;  nor  had  he  sailed  the  deep  sea  and  learned 
the  art  from  some  other  navigator.  He  was  a  San  Fran 
cisco  Bay  yachtsman,  where  land  is  always  only  several 
miles  away  and  the  art  of  navigation  is  never  employed. 

So  the  Snark  started  on  her  long  voyage  without  a 
navigator.  We  beat  through  the  Golden  Gate  on  April 
23,  and  headed  for  the  Hawaiian  Islands,  twenty-one 
hundred  sea-miles  away  as  the  gull  flies.  And  the 
outcome  was  our  justification.  We  arrived.  And  we 
arrived,  furthermore,  without  any  trouble,  as  you  shall 

47 


48       THE   CRUISE   OF   THE   SNARK 


see  ;  that  is,  without  any  trouble  to  amount  to  any 
thing.  To  begin  with,  Roscoe  tackled  the  navigating. 
He  had  the  theory  all  right,  but  it  was  the  first  time 
he  had  ever  applied  it,  as  was  evidenced  by  the  erratic 
behavior  of  iheSnark.  Not  but  what  the  Snark  was  per- 


\ 


Doing  her  Trick. 

fectly  steady  on  the  sea;  the  pranks  she  cut  were  on 
the  chart.  On  a  day  with  a  light  breeze  she  would 
make  a  jump  on  the  chart  that  advertised  "  a  wet  sail 
and  a  flowing  sheet,"  and  on  a  day  when  she  just  raced 
over  the  ocean,  she  scarcely  changed  her  position  on 
the  chart.  Now  when  one's  boat  has  logged  six  knots 
for  twenty-four  consecutive  hours,  it  is  incontestable  that 
she  has  covered  one  hundred  and  forty-four  miles  of 


FINDING    ONE'S    WAY   ABOUT         49 

ocean.  The  ocean  was  all  right,  and  so  was  the  patent 
log  ;  as  for  speed,  one  saw  it  with  his  own  eyes.  There 
fore,  the  thing  that  was  not  all  right  was  the  figuring 
that  refused  to  boost  the  Snark  along  over  the  chart. 
Not  that  this  happened  every  day,  but  that  it  did  happen. 
And  it  was  perfectly  proper  and  no  more  than  was  to 
be  expected  from  a  first  attempt  at  applying  a  theory. 

The  acquisition  of  the  knowledge  of  navigation  has 
a  strange  effect  on  the  minds  of  men.  The  average 
navigator  speaks  of  navigation  with  deep  respect.  To 
the  layman  navigation  is  a  deep  and  awful  mystery,  which 
feeling  has  been  generated  in  him  by  the  deep  and  awful 
respect  for  navigation  that  the  layman  has  seen  displayed 
by  navigators.  I  have  known  frank,  ingenuous,  and  mod 
est  young  men,  open  as  the  day,  to  learn  navigation 
and  at  once  betray  secretiveness,  reserve,  and  self-im 
portance,  as  if  they  had  achieved  some  tremendous  in 
tellectual  attainment.  The  average  navigator  impresses 
the  layman  as  a  priest  of  some  holy  rite.  With  bated 
breath,  the  amateur  yachtsman  navigator  invites  one  in 
to  look  at  his  chronometer.  And  so  it  was  that  our 
friends  suffered  such  apprehension  at  our  sailing  with 
out  a  navigator. 

During  the  building  of  the  Snark,  Roscoe  and  I  had 
an  agreement,  something  like  this:  "I'll  furnish  the 
books  and  instruments,"  I  said,  "  and  do  you  study  up 
navigation  now.  I'll  be  too  busy  to  do  any  studying. 
Then,  when  we  get  to  sea,  you  can  teach  me  what  you 
have  learned."  Roscoe  was  delighted.  Furthermore, 
Roscoe  was  as  frank  and  ingenuous  and  modest  as 
the  young  men  I  have  described.  But  when  we  got 
out  to  sea  and  he  began  to  practise  the  holy  rite, 
while  I  looked  on  admiringly,  a  change,  subtle  and  dis- 


50       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

tinctive,  marked  his  bearing.  When  he  shot  the  sun 
at  noon,  the  glow  of  achievement  wrapped  him  in  lam 
bent  flame.  When  he  went  below,  figured  out  his  ob 
servation,  and  then  returned  on  deck  and  announced 
our  latitude  and  longitude,  there  was  an  authoritative 
ring  in  his  voice  that  was  new  to  all  of  us.  But  that 
was  not  the  worst  of  it.  He  became  filled  with  incom 
municable  information.  And  the  more  he  discovered 
the  reasons  for  the  erratic  jumps  of  the  Snark  over  the 
chart,  and  the  less  the  Snark  jumped,  the  more  in 
communicable  and  holy  and  awful  became  his  informa 
tion.  My  mild  suggestions  that  it  was  about  time  that 
I  began  to  learn,  met  with  no  hearty  response,  with  no 
offers  on  his  part  to  help  me.  He  displayed  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  living  up  to  our  agreement. 

Now  this  was  not  Roscoe's  fault ;  he  could  not  help 
it.  He  had  merely  gone  the  way  of  all  the  men  who 
learned  navigation  before  him.  By  an  understandable 
and  forgivable  confusion  of  values,  plus  a  loss  of  orien 
tation,  he  felt  weighted  by  responsibility,  and  experi 
enced  the  possession  of  power  that  was  like  unto  that 
of  a  god.  All  his  life  Roscoe  had  lived  on  land,  and 
therefore  in  sight  of  land.  Being  constantly  in  sight  of 
land,  with  landmarks  to  guide  him,  he  had  managed, 
with  occasional  difficulties,  to  steer  his  body  around  and 
about  the  earth.  Now  he  found  himself  on  the  sea, 
wide-stretching,  bounded  only  by  the  eternal  circle  of 
the  sky.  This  circle  looked  always  the  same.  There 
were  no  landmarks.  The  sun  rose  to  the  east  and  set 
to  the  west  and  the  stars  wheeled  through  the  night. 
But  who  may  look  at  the  sun  or  the  stars  and  say, 
"  My  place  on  the  face  of  the  earth  at  the  present 
moment  is  four  and  three-quarter  miles  to  the  west 


FINDING    ONE'S   WAY   ABOUT         51 

of  Jones'  Cash  Store  of  Smithersville"?  or  "I  know 
where  I  am  now,  for  the  Little  Dipper  informs  me  that 
Boston  is  three  miles  away  on  the  second  turning  to  the 
right"?  And  yet  that  was  precisely  what  Roscoe  did. 
That  he  was  astounded  by  the  achievement,  is  putting 
it  mildly.  He  stood  in  reverential  awe  of  himself;  he 
had  performed  a  miraculous  feat.  The  act  of  finding 
himself  on  the  face  of  the  waters  became  a  rite,  and 
he  felt  himself  a  superior  being  to  the  rest  of  us  who 
knew  not  this  rite  and  were  dependent  on  him  for  be 
ing  shepherded  across  the  heaving  and  limitless  waste, 
the  briny  highroad  that  connects  the  continents  and 
whereon  there  are  no  mile-stones.  So,  with  the  sextant 
he  made  obeisance  to  the  sun-god,  he  consulted  ancient 
tomes  and  tables  of  magic  characters,  muttered  prayers 
in  a  strange  tongue  that  sounded  like  Indexerrorparallax- 
refraction,  made  cabalistic  signs  on  paper,  added  and 
carried  one,  and  then,  on  a  piece  of  holy  script  called 
the  Grail  —  I  mean,  the  Chart  —  he  placed  his  finger 
on  a  certain  space  conspicuous  for  its  blankness  and 
said,  "Here  we  are."  When  we  looked  at  the  blank 
space  and  asked,  "And  where  is  that  ?  "  he  answered  in 
the  cipher-code  of  the  higher  priesthood,  "31  — 15 — 47 
north,  133  —  5  —  30  west."  And  we  said  "Oh,"  and 
felt  mighty  small. 

So  I  aver,  it  was  not  Roscoe's  fault.  He  was  like 
unto  a  god,  and  he  carried  us  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand 
across  the  blank  spaces  on  the  chart.  I  experienced  a 
great  respect  for  Roscoe  ;  this  respect  grew  so  pro 
found  that  had  he  commanded,  "  Kneel  down  and  wor 
ship  me,"  I  know  that  I  should  have  flopped  down  on 
the  deck  and  yammered.  But,  one  day,  there  came  a 
still  small  thought  to  me  that  said:  "This  is  not  a 


52       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


FINDING   ONE'S   WAY   ABOUT        53 

god  ;  this  is  Roscoe,  a  mere  man  like  myself.  What 
he  has  done,  I  can  do.  Who  taught  him  ?  Himself. 
Go  you  and  do  likewise  —  be  your  own  teacher." 
And  right  there  Roscoe  crashed,  and  he  was  high  priest 
of  the  Snark  no  longer.  I  invaded  the  sanctuary  and 
demanded  the  ancient  tomes  and  magic  tables,  also  the 
prayer-wheel  —  the  sextant,  I  mean. 

And  now,  in  simple  language,  I  shall  describe  how 
I  taught  myself  navigation.  One  whole  afternoon 
I  sat  in  the  cockpit,  steering  with  one  hand  and 
studying  logarithms  with  the  other.  Two  after 
noons,  two  hours  each,  I  studied  the  general  theory 
of  navigation  and  the  particular  process  of  taking  a 
meridian  altitude.  Then  I  took  the  sextant,  worked 
out  the  index  error,  and  shot  the  sun.  The  figuring 
from  the  data  of  this  observation  was  child's  play. 
In  the  "Epitome"  and  the  "Nautical  Almanac" 
were  scores  of  cunning  tables,  all  worked  out  by 
mathematicians  and  astronomers.  It  was  like  using 
interest  tables  and  lightning-calculator  tables  such  as 
you  all  know.  The  mystery  was  mystery  no  longer. 
I  put  my  finger  on  the  chart  and  announced  that 
that  was  where  we  were.  I  was  right,  too,  or  at  least 
I  was  as  right  as  Roscoe,  who  selected  a  spot  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away  from  mine.  Even  he  was  willing 
to  split  the  distance  with  me.  I  had  exploded  the 
mystery ;  and  yet,  such  was  the  miracle  of  it,  I  was 
conscious  of  new  power  in  me,  and  I  felt  the  thrill 
and  tickle  of  pride.  And  when  Martin  asked  me, 
in  the  same  humble  and  respectful  way  I  had  previ 
ously  asked  Roscoe,  as  to  where  we  were,  it  was  with 
exaltation  and  spiritual  chest-throwing  that  I  answered 
in  the  cipher-code  of  the  higher  priesthood  and  heard 


54       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


Martin's  self-abasing  and  worshipful  "  Oh."  As  for 
Charmian,  I  felt  that  in  a  new  way  I  had  proved  my 
right  to  her ;  and  I  was  aware  of  another  feeling, 
namely,  that  she  was  a  most  fortunate  woman  to  have 
a  man  like  me. 

I   couldn't   help    it.      I    tell   it   as    a  vindication    of 
Roscoe  and  all -the  other  navigators.     The  poison  of 

power  was  working  in  me. 
I  was  not  as  other  men  — 
most  other  men ;  I  knew 
what  they  did  not  know, — 
the  mystery  of  the  heavens, 
that  pointed  out  the  way 
across  the  deep.  And  the 
taste  of  power  I  had  received 
drove  me  on.  I  steered  at 
the  wheel  long  hours  with  one 
hand,  and  studied  'mystery 
with  the  other.  By  the  end 
of  the  week,  teaching  myself, 
I  was  able  to  do  divers  things. 
For  instance,  I  shot  the  North 
Star,  at  night,  of  course  ;  got 
its  altitude,  corrected  for  in 
dex  error,  dip,  etc.,  and  found  our  latitude.  And 
this  latitude  agreed  with  the  latitude  of  the  previous 
noon  corrected  by  dead  reckoning  up  to  that  mo 
ment.  Proud  ?  Well,  I  was  even  prouder  with 
my  next  miracle.  I  was  going  to  turn  in  at  nine 
o'clock.  I  worked  out  the  problem,  self-instructed, 
and  learned  what  star  of  the  first  magnitude  would  be 
passing  the  meridian  around  half-past  eight.  This 
star  proved  to  be  Alpha  Crucis.  I  had  never  heard 


Land  Ho! 


FINDING    ONE'S    WAY   ABOUT         55 

of  the  star  before.  I  looked  it  up  on  the  star  map. 
It  was  one  of  the  stars  of  the  Southern  Cross.  What! 
thought  I  ;  have  we  been  sailing  with  the  Southern 
Cross  in  the  sky  of  nights  and  never  known  it? 
Dolts  that  we  are  !  Gudgeons  and  moles  !  I  couldn't 
believe  it.  I  went  over  the  problem  again,  and  veri 
fied  it.  Charmian  had  the  wheel  from  eight  till  ten 
that  evening.  I  told  her  to  keep  her  eyes  open  and 
look  due  south  for  the  Southern  Cross.  And  when  the 
stars  came  out,  there  shone  the  Southern  Cross  low 
on  the  horizon.  Proud?  No  medicine  man  nor 
high  priest  was  ever  prouder.  Furthermore,  with  the 
prayer-wheel  I  shot  Alpha  Crucis  and  from  its  alti 
tude  worked  out  our  latitude.  And  still  further 
more,  I  shot  the  North  Star,  too,  and  it  agreed 
with  what  had  been  told  me  by  the  Southern  Cross. 
Proud  ?  Why,  the  language  of  the  stars  was  mine, 
and  I  listened  and  heard  them  telling  me  my  way 
over  the  deep. 

Proud?  I  was  a  worker  of  miracles.  I  forgot  how 
easily  I  had  taught  myself  from  the  printed  page.  I 
forgot  that  all  the  work  (and  a  tremendous  work,  too) 
had  been  done  by  the  master-minds  before  me,  the 
astronomers  and  mathematicians,  who  had  discovered 
and  elaborated  the  whole  science  of  navigation  and 
made  the  tables  in  the  "  Epitome."  I  remembered 
only  the  everlasting  miracle  of  it  —  that  I  had  listened 
to  the  voices  of  the  stars  and  been  told  my  place  upon 
the  highway  of  the  sea.  Charmian  did  not  know, 
Martin  did  not  know,  Tochigi,  the  cabin-boy,  did  not 
know.  But  I  told  them.  I  was  God's  messenger. 
I  stood  between  them  and  infinity.  I  translated  the 
high  celestial  speech  into  terms  of  their  ordinary 


56       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

understanding.     We  were  heaven-directed,  and  it  was 
I  who  could  read  the  sign-post  of  the  sky  !  —  I  !   I ! 

And  now,  in  a  cooler  moment,  I  hasten  to  blab 
the  whole  simplicity  of  it,  to  blab  on  Roscoe  and  the 
other  navigators  and  the  rest  of  the  priesthood,  all 
for  fear  that  I  may  become  even  as  they,  secretive, 
immodest,  and  inflated  with  self-esteem.  And  I  want 
to  say  this  now:  any  young  fellow  with  ordinary  gray 
matter,  ordinary  education,  and  with  the  slightest  trace 
of  the  student-mind,  can  get  the  books,  and  charts, 
and  instruments  and  teach  himself  navigation.  Now  I 
must  not  be  misunderstood.  Seamanship  is  an  entirely 
different  matter.  It  is  not  learned  in  a  day,  nor  in 
many  days ;  it  requires  years.  Also,  navigating  by 
dead  reckoning  requires  long  study  and  practice.  But 
navigating  by  observations  of  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars,  thanks  to  the  astronomers  and  mathematicians, 
is  child's  play.  Any  average  young  fellow  can  teach 
himself  in  a  week.  And  yet  again  I  must  not  be  mis 
understood.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  at  the  end  of  a 
week  a  young  fellow  could  take  charge  of  a  fifteen-thou- 
sand-ton  steamer,  driving  twenty  knots  an  hour  through 
the  brine,  racing  from  land  to  land,  fair  weather  and 
foul,  clear  sky  or  cloudy,  steering  by  degrees  on 
the  compass  card  and  making  landfalls  with  most 
amazing  precision.  But  what  I  do  mean  is  just  this : 
the  average  young  fellow  I  have  described  can  get  into 
a  staunch  sail-boat  and  put  out  across  the  ocean,  with 
out  knowing  anything  about  navigation,  and  at  the  end 
of  the  week  he  will  know  enough  to  know  where  he 
is  on  the  chart.  He  will  be  able  to  take  a  meridian 
observation  with  fair  accuracy,  and  from  that  observa 
tion,  with  ten  minutes  of  figuring,  work  out  his  lati- 


FINDING    ONE'S   WAY   ABOUT        57 

tude  and  longitude.  And,  carrying  neither  freight  nor 
passengers,  being  under  no  press  to  reach  his  destina 
tion,  he  can  jog  comfortably  along,  and  if  at  any  time 
he  doubts  his  own  navigation  and  fears  an  imminent 
landfall,  he  can  heave  to  all  night  and  proceed  in  the 
morning. 

Joshua  Slocum  sailed  around  the  world  a  few  years 


Our  First  Guny. 

ago  in  a  thirty-seven-foot  boat  all  by  himself.  I  shall 
never  forget,  in  his  narrative  of  the  voyage,  where  he 
heartily  indorsed  the  idea  of  young  men,  in  similar 
small  boats,  making  similar  voyage.  I  promptly  in 
dorsed  his  idea,  and  so  heartily  that  I  took  my  wife 
along.  While  it  certainly  makes  a  Cook's  tour  look 
like  thirty  cents,  on  top  of  that,  and  on  top  of  the  fun 
and  pleasure,  it  is  a  splendid  education  for  a  young 
man  —  oh,  not  a  mere  education  in  the  things  of  the 


58       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

world  outside,  of  lands,  and  peoples,  and  climates,  but 
an  education  in  the  world  inside,  an  education  in  one's 
self,  a  chance  to  learn  one's  own  self,  to  get  on  speak 
ing  terms  with  one's  soul.  Then  there  is  the  training 
and  the  disciplining  of  it.  First,  naturally,  the  young 
fellow  will  learn  his  limitations ;  and  next,  inevitably, 
he  will  proceed  to  press  back  those  limitations.  And 
he  cannot  escape  returning  from  such  a  voyage  a  bigger 
and  better  man.  And  as  for  sport,  it  is  a  king's  sport, 
taking  one's  self  around  the  world,  doing  it  with  one's 
own  hands,  depending  on  no  one  but  one's  self,  and  at 
the  end,  back  at  the  starting-point,  contemplating  with 
inner  vision  the  planet  rushing  through  space,  and  say 
ing,  "  I  did  it;  with  my  own  hands  I  did  it.  I  went 
clear  around  that  whirling  sphere,  and  I  can  travel 
alone,  without  any  nurse  of  a  sea-captain  to  guide  my 
steps  across  the  seas.  I  may  not  fly  to  other  stars,  but 
of  this  star  I  myself  am  master." 

As  I  write  these  lines  I  lift  my  eyes  and  look  sea 
ward.  I  am  on  the  beach  of  Waikiki  on  the  island  of 
Oahu.  Far,  in  the  azure  sky,  the  trade-wind  clouds 
drift  low  over  the  blue-green  turquoise  of  the  deep  sea. 
Nearer,  the  sea  is  emerald  and  light  olive-green.  Then 
comes  the  reef,  where  the  water  is  all  slaty  purple 
flecked  with  red.  Still  nearer  are  brighter  greens  and 
tans,  lying  in  alternate  stripes  and  showing  where  sand- 
beds  lie  between  the  living  coral  banks.  Through  and 
over  and  out  of  these  wonderful  colors  tumbles  and 
thunders  a  magnificent  surf.  As  I  say,  I  lift  my  eyes 
to  all  this,  and  through  the  white  crest  of  a  breaker 
suddenly  appears  a  dark  figure,  erect,  a  man-fish  or  a 
sea-god,  on  the  very  forward  face  of  the  crest  where 
the  top  falls  over  and  down,  driving  in  toward  shore, 


FINDING   ONE'S   WAY   ABOUT        59 

buried  to  his  loins  in  smoking  spray,  caught  up  by  the 
sea  and  flung  landward,  bodily,  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  It 
is  a  Kanaka  on  a  surf-board.  And  I  know  that  when 
I  have  finished  these  lines  I  shall  be  out  in  that  riot  of 
color  and  pounding  surf,  trying  to  bit  those  breakers 
even  as  he,  and  failing  as  he  never  failed,  but  living  life 
as  the  best  of  us  may  live  it.  And  the  picture  of  that 
colored  sea  and  that  flying  sea-god  Kanaka  becomes 
another  reason  for  the  young  man  to  go  west,  and 
farther  west,  beyond  the  Baths  of  Sunset,  and  still  west 
till  he  arrives  home  again. 

But  to  return.  Please  do  not  think  that  I  already 
know  it  all.  I  know  only  the  rudiments  of  navigation. 
There  is  a  vast  deal  yet  for  me  to  learn.  On  the 
Snark  there  is  a  score  of  fascinating  books  on  naviga 
tion  waiting  for  me.  There  is  the  danger-angle  of 
Lecky,  there  is  the  line  of  Sumner,  which,  when  you 
know  least  of  all  where  you  are,  shows  most  conclu 
sively  where  you  are,  and  where  you  are  not.  There 
are  dozens  and  dozens  of  methods  of  rinding  one's  lo 
cation  on  the  deep,  and  one  can  work  years  before  he 
masters  it  all  in  all  its  fineness. 

Even  in  the  little  we  did  learn  there  were  slips  that  ac 
counted  for  the  apparently  antic  behavior  of  the  Snark. 
On  Thursday,  May  16,  for  instance,  the  trade  wind 
failed  us.  During  the  twenty-four  hours  that  ended 
Friday  at  noon,  by  dead  reckoning  we  had  not  sailed 
twenty  miles.  Yet  here  are  our  positions,  at  noon,  for 
the  two  days,  worked  out  from  our  observations  : 

Thursday  20°    57'      9"    N 

152°   40'   30"    W 
Friday  21°    15'    33"    N 

154°      12'  W 


60       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

The  difference  between  the  two  positions  was  some 
thing  like  eighty  miles.  Yet  we  knew  we  had 
not  travelled  twenty  miles.  Now  our  figuring  was  all 
right.  We  went  over  it  several  times.  What  was 
wrong  was  the  observations  we  had  taken.  To  take  a 
correct  observation  requires  practice  and  skill,  and 
especially  so  on  a  small  craft  like  the  Snark.  The  vio 
lently  moving  boat  and  the  closeness  of  the  observer's 
eye  to  the  surface  of  the  water  are  to  blame.  A  big 
wave  that  lifts  up  a  mile  off  is  liable  to  steal  the  hori 
zon  away. 

But  in  our  particular  case  there  was  another  perturb 
ing  factor.  The  sun,  in  its  annual  march  north  through 
the  heavens,  was  increasing  its  declination.  On  the 
1 9th  parallel  of  north  latitude  in  the  middle  of  May 
the  sun  is  nearly  overhead.  The  angle  of  arc  was  be 
tween  eighty-eight  and  eighty-nine  degrees.  Had  it 
been  ninety  degrees  it  would  have  been  straight  over 
head.  It  was  on  another  day  that  we  learned  a  few 
things  about  taking  the  altitude  of  the  almost  perpen 
dicular  sun.  Roscoe  started  in  drawing  the  sun  down 
to  the  eastern  horizon,  and  he  stayed  by  that  point  of 
the  compass  despite  the  fact  that  the  sun  would  pass 
the  meridian  to  the  south.  I,  on  the  other  hand, 
started  in  to  draw  the  sun  down  to  southeast  and 
strayed  away  to  the  southwest.  You  see,  we  were 
teaching  ourselves.  As  a  result,  at  twenty-five  minutes 
past  twelve  by  the  ship's  time,  I  called  twelve  o'clock 
by  the  sun.  Now  this  signified  that  we  had  changed 
our  location  on  the  face  of  the  world  by  twenty-five 
minutes,  which  was  equal  to  something  like  six  degrees 
of  longitude,  or  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  This 
showed  the  Snark  had  travelled  fifteen  knots  per  hour 


FINDING   ONE'S   WAY   ABOUT        61 

for  twenty-four  consecutive  hours  —  and  we  had  never 
noticed  it!  It  was  absurd  and  grotesque.  But  Ros- 
coe,  still  looking  east,  averred  that  it  was  not  yet 
twelve  o'clock.  He  was  bent  on  giving  us  a  twenty- 
knot  clip.  Then  we  began  to  train  our  sextants  rather 
wildly  all  around  the  horizon,  and  wherever  we  looked, 
there  was  the  sun,  puzzlingly  close  to  the  sky-line, 


A  Big  Wave  that  is  liable  to  steal  the  Horizon  Away. 

sometimes  above  it  and  sometimes  below  it.  In  one 
direction  the  sun  was  proclaiming  morning,  in  another 
direction  it  was  proclaiming  afternoon.  The  sun  was 
all  right  —  we  knew  that;  therefore  we  were  all  wrong. 
And  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  we  spent  in  the  cockpit 
reading  up  the  matter  in  the  books  and  finding  out 
what  was  wrong.  We  missed  the  observation  that 
day,  but  we  didn't  the  next.  We  had  learned. 

And  we  learned  well,  better  than  for  a    while    we 
thought  we  had.     At  the  beginning  of  the  second  dog- 


62       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

watch  one  evening,  Charmian  and  I  sat  down  on  the 
forecastle-head  for  a  rubber  of  cribbage.  Chancing  to 
glance  ahead,  I  saw  cloud-capped  mountains  rising 
from  the  sea.  We  were  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  land, 
but  I  was  in  despair  over  our  navigation.  I  thought 
we  had  learned  something,  yet  our  position  at  noon, 
plus  what  we  had  run  since,  did  not  put  us  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  land.  But  there  was  the  land,  fad 
ing  away  before  our  eyes  in  the  fires  of  sunset.  The 
land  was  all  right.  There  was  no  disputing  it.  There 
fore  our  navigation  was  all  wrong.  But  it  wasn't. 
That  land  we  saw  was  the  summit  of  Haleakala,  the 
House  of  the  Sun,  the  greatest  extinct  volcano  in  the 
world.  It  towered  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
it  was  all  of  a  hundred  miles  away.  We  sailed  all  night 
at  a  seven-knot  clip,  and  in  the  morning  the  House 
of  the  Sun  was  still  before  us,  and  it  took  a  few  more 
hours  of  sailing  to  bring  it  abreast  of  us.  "  That  is 
land  is  Maui,"  we  said,  verifying  by  the  chart.  "  That 
next  island  sticking  out  is  Molokai,  where  the  lepers 
are.  And  the  island  next  to  that  is  Oahu.  There  is 
Makapuu  Head  now.  We'll  be  in  Honolulu  to-mor 
row.  Our  navigation  is  all  right." 


CHAPTER    V 

The  First  Landfall 

"  IT  will  not  be  so  monotonous  at  sea/'  I  promised 
my  fellow- voyagers  on  the  Snark.  "  The  sea  is  filled 
with  life.  It  is  so  populous  that  every  day  something 
new  is  happening.  Almost  as  soon  as  we  pass  through 
the  Golden  Gate  and  head  south  we'll  pick  up  with  the 
flying  fish.  We'll  be  having  them  fried  for  breakfast. 
We'll  be  catching  bonita  and  dolphin,  and  spearing 
porpoises  from  the  bowsprit.  And  then  there  are  the 
sharks  —  sharks  without  end." 

We  passed  through  the  Golden  Gate  and  headed 
south.  We  dropped  the  mountains  of  California 
beneath  the  horizon,  and  daily  the  sun  grew  warmer. 
But  there  were  no  flying  fish,  no  bonita  and  dolphin. 
The  ocean  was  bereft  of  life.  Never  had  I  sailed  on 
so  forsaken  a  sea.  Always,  before,  in  the  same  lati 
tudes,  had  I  encountered  flying  fish. 

"  Never  mind,"  I  said.  "  Wait  till  we  get  off  the 
coast  of  Southern  California.  Then  we'll  pick  up  the 
flying'  fish." 

We  came  abreast  of  Southern  California,  abreast  of 
the  Peninsula  of  Lower  California,  abreast  of  the  coast 
of  Mexico  ;  and  there  were  no  flying  fish.  Nor  was 
there  anything  else.  No  life  moved.  As  the  days 
went  by  the  absence  of  life  became  almost  uncanny. 

"  Never  mind,"  I  said.  "  When  we  do  pick  up 
with  the  flying  fish  we'll  pick  up  with  everything  else. 
The  flying  fish  is  the  staff  of  life  for  all  the  other 


64       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

breeds.      Everything  will   come   in  a  bunch  when  we 
find  the  flying  fish." 

When  I  should  have  headed  the  Snark  southwest  for 
Hawaii,  I  still  held  her  south.  I  was  going  to  find 
those  flying  fish.  Finally  the  time  came  when,  if  I 
wanted  to  go  to  Honolulu,  I  should  have  headed  the 
Snark  due  west.  Instead  of  which  I  kept  her  south. 


In  the  Heel  of  the  North-east  Trades. 

Not  until  latitude  19°  did  we  encounter  the  first  flying 
fish.  He  was  very  much  alone.  I  saw  him.  Five 
other  pairs  of  eager  eyes  scanned  the  sea  all  day,  but 
never  saw  another.  So  sparse  were  the  flying  fish  that 
nearly  a  week  more  elapsed  before  the  last  one  on  board 
saw  his  first  flying  fish.  As  for  the  dolphin,  bonita, 
porpoise,  and  all  the  other  hordes  of  life  —  there 
weren't  any. 

Not  even  a  shark  broke  surface  with  his  ominous 
dorsal  fin.  Bert  took  a  dip  daily  under  the  bowsprit, 
hanging  on  to  the  stays  and  dragging  his  body  through 


THE    FIRST    LANDFALL  65 

the  water.  And  daily  he  canvassed  the  project  of 
letting  go  and  having  a  decent  swim.  I  did  my  best 
to  dissuade  him.  But  with  him  I  had  lost  all  standing 
as  an  authority  on  sea  life. 

"If  there  are  sharks,"  he  demanded,  "why  don't 
they  show  up  ?  " 

I  assured  him  that  if  he  really  did  let  go  and  have  a 
swim  the  sharks  would  promptly  appear.  This  was  a 
bluff  on  my  part.  I  didn't  believe  it.  It  lasted  as 
a  deterrent  for  two  days.  The  third  day  the  wind  fell 
calm,  and  it  was  pretty  hot.  The  Snark  was  moving 
a  knot  an  hour.  Bert  dropped  down  under  the  bow 
sprit  and  let  go.  And  now  behold  the  perversity  of 
things.  We  had  sailed  across  two  thousand  miles  and 
more  of  ocean  and  had  met  with  no  sharks.  Within 
five  minutes  after  Bert  finished  his  swim,  the  fin  of  a 
shark  was  cutting  the  surface  in  circles  around  the 
Snark. 

There  was  something  wrong  about  that  shark.  It 
bothered  me.  It  had  no  right  to  be  there  in  that 
deserted  ocean.  The  more  I  thought  about  it,  the 
more  incomprehensible  it  became.  But  two  hours 
later  we  sighted  land  and  the  mystery  was  cleared  up. 
He  had  come  to  us  from  the  land,  and  not  from  the 
uninhabited  deep.  He  had  presaged  the  landfall.  He 
was  the  messenger  of  the  land. 

Twenty-seven  days  out  from  San  Francisco  we  ar 
rived  at  the  island  of  Oahu,  Territory  of  Hawaii.  In 
the  early  morning  we  drifted  around  Diamond  Head 
into  full  view  of  Honolulu  ;  and  then  the  ocean  burst 
suddenly  into  life.  Flying  fish  cleaved  the  air  in  glit 
tering  squadrons.  In  five  minutes  we  saw  more  of 
them  than  during  the  whole  voyage.  Other  fish,  large 


66       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

ones,  of  various  sorts,  leaped  into  the  air.  There 
was  life  everywhere,  on  sea  and  shore.  We  could  see 
the  masts  and  funnels  of  the  shipping  in  the  harbor, 
the  hotels  and  bathers  along  the  beach  at  Waikiki,  the 
smoke  rising  from  the  dwelling-houses  high  up  on  the 
volcanic  slopes  of  the  Punch  Bowl  and  Tantalus. 
The  custom-house  tug  was  racing  toward  us  and  a 


The  Snark  at  her  First  Anchorage. 

big  school  of  porpoises  got  under  our  bow  and  began 
cutting  the  most  ridiculous  capers.  The  port  doctor's 
launch  came  charging  out  at  us,  and  a  big  sea  turtle 
broke  the  surface  with  his  back  and  took  a  look  at  us. 
Never  was  there  such  a  burgeoning  of  life.  Strange 
faces  were  on  our  decks,  strange  voices  were  speaking, 
and  copies  of  that  very  morning's  newspaper,  with 
cable  reports  from  all  the  world,  were  thrust  before  our 
eyes.  Incidentally,  we  read  that  the  Snark  and  all 
hands  had  been  lost  at  sea,  and  that  she  had  been  a 
very  unseaworthy  craft  anyway.  And  while  we  read 


THE    FIRST    LANDFALL  67 

this  information  a  wireless  message  was  being  received 
by  the  congressional  party  on  the  summit  of  Haleakala 
announcing  the  safe  arrival  of  the  Snark. 

It  was  the  Snark' s  first  landfall  —  and  such  a  land 
fall  !  For  twenty-seven  days  we  had  been  on  the  de 
serted  deep,  and  it  was  pretty  hard  to  realize  that  there 


The  Wharf  that  wouldn't  stand  Still. 

was  so  much  life  in  the  world.  We  were  made  dizzy 
by  it.  We  could  not  take  it  all  in  at  once.  We  were 
like  awakened  Rip  Van  Winkles,  and  it  seemed  to  us 
that  we  were  dreaming.  On  one  side  the  azure  sea 
lapped  across  the  horizon  into  the  azure  sky  ;  on  the 
other  side  the  sea  lifted  itself  into  great  breakers  of 
emerald  that  fell  in  a  snowy  smother  upon  a  white 
coral  beach.  Beyond  the  beach,  green  plantations  of 
sugar-cane  undulated  gently  upward  to  steeper  slopes, 


68       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

which,  in  turn,  became  jagged  volcanic  crests,  drenched 
with  tropic  showers  and  capped  by  stupendous  masses 
of  trade-wind  clouds.  At  any  rate,  it  was  a  most 
beautiful  dream.  The  Snark  turned  and  headed 
directly  in  toward  the  emerald  surf,  till  it  lifted  and 
thundered  on  either  hand  ;  and  on  either  hand,  scarce 
a  biscuit-toss  away,  the  reef  showed  its  long  teeth, 
pale  green  and  menacing. 

Abruptly  the  land  itself,  in  a  riot  of  olive-greens  of 
a  thousand  hues,  reached  out  its  arms  and  folded  the 
Snark  in.  There  was  no  perilous  passage  through  the 
reef,  no  emerald  surf  and  azure  sea — nothing  but  a 
warm  soft  land,  a  motionless  lagoon,  and  tiny  beaches 
on  which  swam  dark-skinned  tropic  children.  The 
sea  had  disappeared.  The  Snark1  s  anchor  rumbled  the 
chain  through  the  hawse-pipe,  and  we  lay  without 
movement  on  a  "  lineless,  level  floor."  It  was  all  so 
beautiful  and  strange  that  we  could  not  accept  it  as 
real.  On  the  chart  this  place  was  called  Pearl  Harbor, 
but  we  called  it  Dream  Harbor. 

A  launch  came  off  to  us;  in  it  were  members  of  the 
Hawaiian  Yacht  Club,  come  to  greet  us  and  make  us 
welcome,  with  true  Hawaiian  hospitality,  to  all  they 
had.  They  were  ordinary  men,  flesh  and  blood  and 
all  the  rest ;  but  they  did  not  tend  to  break  our  dream 
ing.  Our  last  memories  of  men  were  of  United  States 
marshals  and  of  panicky  little  merchants  with  rusty 
dollars  for  souls,  who,  in  a  reeking  atmosphere  of  soot 
and  coal-dust,  laid  grimy  hands  upon  the  Snark  and 
held  her  back  from  her  world  adventure.  But  these 
men  who  came  to  meet  us  were  clean  men.  A  healthy 
tan  was  on  their  cheeks,  and  their  eyes  were  not  daz 
zled  and  be-spectacled  from  gazing  overmuch  at 


THE    FIRST    LANDFALL  69 

glittering  dollar-heaps.  No,  they  merely  verified  the 
dream.  They  clinched  it  with  their  unsmirched  souls. 

So  we  went  ashore  with  them  across  a  level  flashing 
sea  to  the  wonderful  green  land.  We  landed  on  a  tiny 
wharf,  and  the  dream  became  more  insistent ;  for  know 
that  for  twenty-seven  days  we  had  been  rocking  across 
the  ocean  on  the  tiny  Snark.  Not  once  in  all  those 
twenty-seven  days  had  we  known  a  moment's  rest,  a 
moment's  cessation  from  movement.  This  ceaseless 
movement  had  become  ingrained.  Body  and  brain 
we  had  rocked  and  rolled  so  long  that  when  we  climbed 
out  on  the  tiny  wharf  we  kept  on  rocking  and  roll 
ing.  This,  naturally,  we  attributed  to  the  wharf.  It 
was  projected  psychology.  I  spraddled  along  the 
wharf  and  nearly  fell  into  the  water.  I  glanced  at 
Charmian,  and  the  way  she  walked  made  me  sad.  The 
wharf  had  all  the  seeming  of  a  ship's  deck.  It  lifted, 
tilted,  heaved,  and  sank  ;  and  since  there  were  no  hand 
rails  on  it,  it  kept  Charmian  and  me  busy  avoiding  fall 
ing  in.  I  never  saw  such  a  preposterous  little  wharf. 
Whenever  I  watched  it  closely,  it  refused  to  roll ;  but 
as  soon  as  I  took  my  attention  off  from  it,  away  it 
went,  just  like  the  Snark.  Once,  I  caught  it  in  the 
act,  just  as  it  upended,  and  I  looked  down  the  length 
of  it  for  two  hundred  feet,  and  for  all  the  world  it  was 
like  the  deck  of  a  ship  ducking  into  a  huge  head-sea. 

At  last,  however,  supported  by  our  hosts,  we  nego 
tiated  the  wharf  and  gained  the  land.  But  the  land 
was  no  better.  The  very  first  thing  it  did  was  to  tilt 
up  on  one  side,  and  far  as  the  eye  could  see  I  watched 
it  tilt,  clear  to  its  jagged,  volcanic  backbone,  and  I  saw 
the  clouds  above  tilt,  too.  This  was  no  stable,  firm- 
founded  land,  else  it  would  not  cut  such  capers.  It 


yo       THE   CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 


THE    FIRST    LANDFALL  71 

was  like  all  the  rest  of  our  landfall,  unreal.  It  was  a 
dream.  At  any  moment,  like  shifting  vapor,  it  might 
dissolve  away.  The  thought  entered  my  head  that 
perhaps  it  was  my  fault,  that  my  head  was  swimming 
or  that  something  I  had  eaten  had  disagreed  with  me. 
But  I  glanced  at  Charmian  and  her  sad  walk,  and  even  as 
I  glanced  I  saw  her  stagger  and  bump  into  the  yachts 
man  by  whose  side  she  walked.  I  spoke  to  her,  and 
she  complained  about  the  antic  behavior  of  the  land. 

We  walked  across  a  spacious,  wonderful  lawn  and 
down  an  avenue  of  royal  palms,  and  across  more  won 
derful  lawn  in  the  gracious  shade  of  stately  trees.  The 
air  was  filled  with  the  songs  of  birds  and  was  heavy 
with  rich  warm  fragrances  —  wafture  from  great  lilies, 
and  blazing  blossoms  of  hibiscus,  and  other  strange 
gorgeous  tropic  flowers.  The  dream  was  becoming 
almost  impossibly  beautiful  to  us  who  for  so  long  had 
seen  naught  but  the  restless,  salty  sea.  Charmian 
reached  out  her  hand  and  clung  to  me  —  for  support 
against  the  ineffable  beauty  of  it,  thought  I.  But  no. 
As  I  supported  her  I  braced  my  legs,  while  the  flowers 
and  lawns  reeled  and  swung  around  me.  It  was  like 
an  earthquake,  only  it  quickly  passed  without  doing 
any  harm.  It  was  fairly  difficult  to  catch  the  land 
playing  these  tricks.  As  long  as  I  kept  my  mind  on 
it,  nothing  happened.  But  as  soon  as  my  attention 
was  distracted,  away  it  went,  the  whole  panorama, 
swinging  and  heaving  and  tilting  at  all  sorts  of  angles. 
Once,  however,  I  turned  my  head  suddenly  and  caught 
that  stately  line  of  royal  palms  swinging  in  a  great  arc 
across  the  sky.  But  it  stopped,  just  as  soon  as  I 
caught  it,  and  became  a  placid  dream  again. 

Next  we  came  to  a  house  of  coolness,  with  great 


72       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

sweeping  veranda,  where  lotus-eaters  might  dwell. 
Windows  and  doors  were  wide  open  to  the  breeze,  and 
the  songs  and  fragrances  blew  lazily  in  and  out.  The 
walls  were  hung  with  tapa-cloths.  Couches  with  grass- 
woven  covers  invited  everywhere,  and  there  was  a  grand 
piano,  that  played,  I  was  sure,  nothing  more  exciting 
than  lullabies.  Servants — Japanese  maids  in  native 
costume  —  drifted  around  and  about,  noiselessly,  like 
butterflies.  Everything  was  preternaturally  cool.  Here 
was  no  blazing  down  of  a  tropic  sun  upon  an  unshrink 
ing  sea.  It  was  too  good  to  be  true.  Butit  was  not  real. 
It  was  a  dream-dwelling.  I  knew,  for  I  turned  sud 
denly  and  caught  the  grand  piano  cavorting  in  a 
spacious  corner  of  the  room.  I  did  not  say  anything, 
for  just  then  we  were  being  received  by  a  gracious 
woman,  a  beautiful  Madonna,  clad  in  flowing  white 
and  shod  with  sandals,  who  greeted  us  as  though  she 
had  known  us  always. 

We  sat  at  table  on  the  lotus-eating  veranda,  served 
by  the  butterfly  maids,  and  ate  strange  foods  and  par 
took  of  a  nectar  called  poi.  But  the  dream  threatened 
to  dissolve.  It  shimmered  and  trembled  like  an  iri 
descent  bubble  about  to  break.  I  was  just  glancing 
out  at  the  green  grass  and  stately  trees  and  blossoms 
of  hibiscus,  when  suddenly  I  felt  the  table  move. 
The  table,  and  the  Madonna  across  from  me,  and  the 
veranda  of  the  lotus-eaters,  the  scarlet  hibiscus,  the 
greensward  and  the  trees  —  all  lifted  and  tilted  before 
my  eyes,  and  heaved  and  sank  down  into  the  trough 
of  a  monstrous  sea.  I  gripped  my  chair  convulsively 
and  held  on.  I  had  a  feeling  that  I  was  holding  on 
to  the  dream  as  well  as  the  chair.  I  should  not  have 
been  surprised  had  the  sea  rushed  in  and  drowned  all 


THE    FIRST    LANDFALL 


73 


74       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

that  fairyland  and  had  I  found  myself  at  the  wheel  of 
the  Snark  just  looking  up  casually  from  the  study  of 
logarithms.  But  the  dream  persisted.  I  looked  covertly 
at  the  Madonna  and  her  husband.  They  evidenced  no 
perturbation.  The  dishes  had  not  moved  upon  the 
table.  The  hibiscus  and  trees  and  grass  were  still 
there.  Nothing  had  changed.  I  partook  of  more 
nectar,  and  the  dream  was  more  real  than  ever. 

"Will  you  have  some  iced  tea?"  asked  the  Madonna; 
and  then  her  side  of  the  table  sank  down  gently  and  I 
said  yes  to  her  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees. 

"Speaking  of  sharks,"  said  her  husband,  "up  at 
Niihau  there  was  a  man  —  "  And  at  that  moment  the 
table  lifted  and  heaved,  and  I  gazed  upward  at  him  at 
an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees. 

So  the  luncheon  went  on,  and  I  was  glad  that  I  did 
not  have  to  bear  the  affliction  of  watching  Charmian 
walk.  Suddenly,  however,  a  mysterious  word  of  fear 
broke  from  the  lips  of  the  lotus-eaters.  "  Ah,  ah," 
thought  I,  "  now  the  dream  goes  glimmering."  I 
clutched  the  chair  desperately,  resolved  to  drag  back  to 
the  reality  of  the  Snark  some  tangible  vestige  of  this 
lotus  land.  I  felt  the  whole  dream  lurching  and  pulling 
to  be  gone.  Just  then  the  mysterious  word  of  fear 
was  repeated.  It  sounded  like  Reporters.  I  looked 
and  saw  three  of  them  coming  across  the  lawn.  Oh, 
blessed  reporters  !  Then  the  dream  was  indisputably 
real  after  all.  I  glanced  out  across  the  shining  water 
and  saw  the  Snark  at  anchor,  and  I  remembered  that 
I  had  sailed  in  her  from  San  Francisco  to  Hawaii,  and 
that  this  was  Pearl  Harbor,  and  that  even  then  I  was 
acknowledging  introductions  and  saying,  in  reply  to 
the  first  question,  "  Yes,  we  had  delightful  weather  all 
the  way  down." 


CHAPTER   VI 

A  Royal  Sport 

THAT  is  what  it  is,  a  royal  sport  for  the  natural  kings 
of  earth.  The  grass  grows  right  down  to  the  water  at 
Waikiki  Beach,  and  within  fifty  feet  of  the  everlasting 
sea.  The  trees  also  grow  down  to  the  salty  edge  of 
things,  and  one  sits  in  their  shade  and  looks  seaward 
at  a  majestic  surf  thundering  in  on  the  beach  to  one's 
very  feet.  Half  a  mile  out,  where  is  the  reef,  the 
white-headed  combers  thrust  suddenly  skyward  out  of 
the  placid  turquoise-blue  and  come  rolling  in  to  shore. 
One  after  another  they  come,  a  mile  long,  with  smok 
ing  crests,  the  white  battalions  of  the  infinite  army  of 
the  sea.  And  one  sits  and  listens  to  the  perpetual 
roar,  and  watches  the  unending  procession,  and  feels 
tiny  and  fragile  before  this  tremendous  force  express 
ing  itself  in  fury  and  foam  and  sound.  Indeed, 
one  feels  microscopically  small,  and  the  thought  that 
one  may  wrestle  with  this  sea  raises  in  one's  imagination 
a  thrill  of  apprehension,  almost  of  fear.  Why,  they 
are^a  mile  long,  these  bull-mouthed  monsters,  and  they 
weigh  a  thousand  tons,  and  they  charge  in  to  shore 
faster  than  a  man  can  run.  What  chance?  No  chance 
at  all,  is  the  verdict  of  the  shrinking  ego  ;  and  one  sits, 
and  looks,  and  listens,  and  thinks  the  grass  and  the 
shade  are  a  pretty  good  place  in  which  to  be. 

And  suddenly,  out  there  where  a  big  smoker  lifts 
skyward,  rising  like  a  sea-god  from  out  of  the  welter 
of  spume  and  churning  white,  on  the  giddy,  toppling, 

75 


76       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

overhanging  and  downfalling,  precarious  crest  appears 
the  dark  head  of  a  man.  Swiftly  he  rises  through  the 
rushing  white.  His  black  shoulders,  his  chest,  his  loins, 
his  limbs  —  all  is  abruptly  projected,  on  one's  vision. 
Where  but  the  moment  before  was  only  the  wide  deso 
lation  and  invincible  roar,  is  now  a  man,  erect,  full- 
statured,  not  struggling  frantically  in  that  wild 


Coming  in  on  a  Wave. 

movement,  not  buried  and  crushed  and  buffeted  by 
those  mighty  monsters,  but  standing  above  them  all, 
calm  and  superb,  poised  on  the  giddy  summit,  his  feet 
buried  in  the  churning  foam,  the  salt  smoke  rising  to 
his  knees,  and  all  the  rest  of  him  in  the  free  air  and 
flashing  sunlight,  and  he  is  flying  through  the  air, 
flying  forward,  flying  fast  as  the  surge  on  which  he 
stands.  He  is  a  Mercury  —  a  brown  Mercury.  His 
heels  are  winged,  and  in  them  is  the  swiftness  of  the 
sea.  In  truth,  from  out  of  the  sea  he  has  leaped  upon 
the  back  of  the  sea,  and  he  is  riding  the  sea  that  roars 


A    ROYAL   SPORT 


77 


and  bellows  and  cannot  shake  him  from  its  back.  But 
no  frantic  outreaching  and  balancing  is  his.  He  is 
impassive,  motionless  as  a  statue  carved  suddenly  by 
some  miracle  out  of  the  sea's  depth  from  which  he  rose. 
And  straight  on  toward  shore  he  flies  on  his  winged  heels 


Leviathan  and  the  Snark, 

and  the  white  crest  of  the  breaker.  There  is  a  wild 
burst  of  foam,  a  long  tumultuous  rushing  sound  as  the 
breaker  falls  futile  and  spent  on  the  beach  at  your  feet; 
and  there,  at  your  feet  steps  calmly  ashore  a  Kanaka, 
burnt  golden  and  brown  by  the  tropic  sun.  Several 
minutes  ago  he  was  a  speck  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
He  has  "  bitted  the  bull-mouthed  breaker"  and  ridden  it 
in,  and  the  pride  in  the  feat  shows  in  the  carriage  of  his 
magnificent  body  as  he  glances  for  a  moment  carelessly 


78       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

at  you  who  sit  in  the  shade  of  the  shore.  He  is  a 
Kanaka  —  and  more,  he  is  a  man,  a  member  of  the 
kingly  species  that  has  mastered  matter  and  the  brutes 
and  lorded  it  over  creation. 

And  one  sits  and  thinks  of  Tristram's  last  wrestle 
with  the  sea  on  that  fatal  morning  ;  and  one  thinks 
further,  to  the  fact  that  that  Kanaka  has  done  what 
Tristram  never  did,  and  that  he  knows  a  joy  of  the  sea 
that  Tristram  never  knew.  And  still  further  one  thinks. 
It  is  all  very  well,  sitting  here  in  cool  shade  of  the 
beach,  but  you  are  a  man,  one  of  the  kingly  species, 
and  what  that  Kanaka  can  do,  you  can  do  yourself.  Go  to. 
Strip  off  your  clothes  that  are  a  nuisance  "in  this  mellow 
clime.  Get  in  and  wrestle  with  the  sea  ;  wing  your 
heels  with  the  skill  and  power  that  reside  in  you ;  bit 
the  sea's  breakers,  master  them,  and  ride  upon  their 
backs  as  a  king  should. 

And  that  is  how  it  came  about  that  I  tackled  surf- 
riding.  And  now  that  I  have  tackled  it,  more  than 
ever  do  I  hold  it  to  be  a  royal  sport.  But  first  let  me 
explain  the  physics  of  it.  A  wave  is  a  communicated 
agitation.  The  water  that  composes  the  body  of  a  wave 
does  not  move.  If  it  did,  when  a  stone  is  thrown  into 
a  pond  and  the  ripples  spread  away  in  an  ever  widening 
circle,  there  would  appear  at  the  centre  an  ever  increas 
ing  hole.  No,  the  water  that  composes  the  body  of  a 
wave  is  stationary.  Thus,  you  may  watch  a  particular 
portion  of  the  ocean's  surface  and  you  will  see  the  same 
water  rise  and  fall  a  thousand  times  to  the  agitation 
communicated  by  a  thousand  successive  waves.  Now 
imagine  this  communicated  agitation  moving  shoreward. 
As  the  bottom  shoals,  the  lower  portion  of  the  wave 
strikes  land  first  and  is  stopped.  But  water  is  fluid, 


A    ROYAL    SPORT 


79 


and  the  upper  portion  has  not  struck  anything,  where 
fore  it  keeps  on  communicating  its  agitation,  keeps  on 
going.  And  when  the  top  of  the  wave  keeps  on 
going,  while  the  bottom  of  it  lags  behind,  something 

is  bound  to  happen.   

The  bottom  of  the 
wave  drops  out  from 
under  and  the  top  of 
the  wave  falls  over, 
forward,  and  down, 
curling  and  cresting 
and  roaring  as  it 
does  so.  It  is  the 
bottom  of  a  wave 
striking  against  the 
top  of  the  land  that 
is  the  cause  of  all 
surfs. 

But  the  trans 
formation  from  *  a 
smooth  undulation 
to  a  breaker  is  not 


Good  Morning. 


abrupt  except  where 
the  bottom  shoals 
abruptly.  Say  the 
bottom  shoals  gradually  for  from  quarter  of  a  mile  to 
a  mile,  then  an  equal  distance  will  be  occupied  by  the 
transformation.  Such  a  bottom  is  that  off  the  beach 
of  Waikiki,  and  it  produces  a  splendid  surf-riding  surf. 
One  leaps  upon  the  back  of  a  breaker  just  as  it  begins 
to  break,  and  stays  on  it  as  it  continues  to  break  all 
the  way  in  to  shore. 

And  now  to  the  particular  physics   of  surf-riding. 


So       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

Get  out  on  a  flat  board,  six  feet  long,  two  feet  wide, 
and  roughly  oval  in  shape.  Lie  down  upon  it  like  a 
small  boy  on  a  coaster  and  paddle  with  your  hands 
out  to  deep  water,  where  the  waves  begin  to  crest.  Lie 
out  there  quietly  on  the  board.  Sea  after  sea  breaks 
before,  behind,  and  under  and  over  you,  and  rushes  in 
to  shore,  leaving  you  behind.  When  a  wave  crests,  it 
gets  steeper.  Imagine  yourself,  on  your  board,  on  the 
face  of  that  steep  slope.  If  it  stood  still,  you  would 
slide  down  just  as  a  boy  slides  down  a  hill  on  his 
coaster.  "  But,"  you  object,  "  the  wave  doesn't  stand 
still."  Very  true,  but  the  water  composing  the  wave 
stands  still,  and  there  you  have  the  secret.  If  ever 
you  start  sliding  down  the  face  of  that  wave,  you'll 
keep  on  sliding  and  you'll  never  reach  the  bottom. 
Please  don't  laugh.  The  face  of  that  wave  may  be 
only  six  feet,  yet  you  can  slide  down  it  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  or  half  a  mile,  and  not  reach  the  bottom.  For, 
see,  since  a  wave  is  only  a  communicated  agitation  or 
impetus,  and  since  the  water  that  composes  a  wave,  is 
changing  every  instant,  new  water  is  rising  into  the 
wave  as  fast  as  the  wave  travels.  You  slide  down  this 
new  water,  and  yet  remain  in  your  old  position  on  the 
wave,  sliding  down  the  still  newer  water  that  is  rising 
and  forming  the  wave.  You  slide  precisely  as  fast  as 
the  wave  travels.  I  fit  travels  fifteen  miles  an  hour, 
you  slide  fifteen  miles  an  hour.  Between  you  and 
shore  stretches  a  quarter  of  mile  of  water.  As  the 
wave  travels,  this  water  obligingly  heaps  itself  into  the 
wave,  gravity  does  the  rest,  and  down  you  go,  sliding 
the  whole  length  of  it.  If  you  still  cherish  the  notion, 
while  sliding,  that  the  water  is  moving  with  you,  thrust 
your  arms  into  it  and  attempt  to  paddle  ;  you  will  find 


A    ROYAL   SPORT  81 

that  you  have  to  be  remarkably  quick  to  get  a  stroke, 
for  that  water  is  dropping  astern  just  as  fast  as  you  are 
rushing  ahead. 

And  now  for  another  phase  of  the  physics  of  surf- 
riding.  All  rules  have  their  exceptions.  It  is  true 
that  the  water  in  a  wave  does  not  travel  forward.  But 
there  is  what  may  be  called  the  send  of  the  sea.  The 


Standing  up  and  lying  down. 

water  in  the  overtoppling  crest  does  move  forward,  as 
you  will  speedily  realize  if  you  are  slapped  in  the  face 
by  it,  or  if  you  are  caught  under  it  and  are  pounded 
by  one  mighty  blow  down  under  the  surface  panting 
and  gasping  for  half  a  minute.  The  water  in  the  top 
of  a  wave  rests  upon  the  water  in  the  bottom  of  the 
wave.  But  when  the  bottom  of  the  wave  strikes  the 
land,  it  stops,  while  the  top  goes  on.  It  no  longer  has 
the  bottom  of  the  wave  to  hold  it  up.  Where  was 
solid  water  beneath  it,  is  now  air,  and  for  the  first  time 


82       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

it  feels  the  grip  of  gravity,  and  down  it  falls,  at  the 
same  time  being  torn  asunder  from  the  lagging  bot 
tom  of  the  wave  and  flung  forward.  And  it  is  be 
cause  of  this  that  riding  a  surf-board  is  something 
more  than  a  mere  placid  sliding  down  a  hill.  In  truth, 
one  is  caught  up  and  hurled  shoreward  as  by  some 
Titan's  hand. 

I  deserted  the  cool  shade,  put  on  a  swimming  suit, 
and  got  hold  of  a  surf-board.  It  was  too  small  a  board. 
But  I  didn't  know,  and  nobody  told  me.  I  joined 
some  little  Kanaka  boys  in  shallow  water,  where  the 
breakers  were  well  spent  and  small  —  a  regular  kinder 
garten  school.  I  watched  the  little  Kanaka  boys. 
When  a  likely-looking  breaker  came  along,  they 
flopped  upon  their  stomachs  on  their  boards,  kicked 
like  mad  with  their  feet,  and  rode  the  breaker  in  to 
the  beach.  I  tried  to  emulate  them.  I  watched  them, 
tried  to  do  everything  that  they  did,  and  failed  utterly. 
The  breaker  swept  past,  and  I  was  not  on  it.  I  tried 
again  and  again.  I  kicked  twice  as  madly  as  they  did, 
and  failed.  Half  a  dozen  would  be  around.  We 
would  all  leap  on  our  boards  in  front  of  a  good 
breaker.  Away  our  feet  would  churn  like  the  stern- 
wheels  of  river  steamboats,  and  away  the  little  rascals 
would  scoot  while  I  remained  in  disgrace  behind. 

I  tried  for  a  solid  hour,  and  not  one  wave  could  I 
persuade  to  boost  me  shoreward.  And  then  arrived  a 
friend,  Alexander  Hume  Ford,  a  globe  trotter  by  pro 
fession,  bent  ever  on  the  pursuit  of  sensation.  And 
he  had  found  it  at  Waikiki.  Heading  for  Australia, 
he  had  stopped  off  for  a  week  to  find  out  if  there  were 
any  thrills  in  surf-riding,  and  he  had  become  wedded  to 
it.  He  had  been  at  it  every  day  for  a  month  and  could 


A    ROYAL   SPORT  83 

not  yet  see  any  symptoms  of  the  fascination  lessening 
on  him.  He  spoke  with  authority. 

"  Get  off  that  board,"  he  said.  "  Chuck  it  away  at 
once.  Look  at  the  way  you're  trying  to  ride  it.  If 
ever  the  nose  of  that  board  hits  bottom,  you'll  be  dis 
embowelled.  Here,  take  my  board.  It's  a  man's 
size." 

I  am  always  humble  when  confronted  by  knowledge. 
Ford  knew.  He  showed  me  how  properly  to  mount 
his  board.  Then  he  waited  for  a  good  breaker,  gave 
me  a  shove  at  the  right  moment,  and  started  me  in. 
Ah,  delicious  moment  when  I  felt  that  breaker  grip  and 
fling  me.  On  I  dashed,  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and 
subsided  with  the  breaker  on  the  sand.  From  that 
moment  I  was  lost.  I  waded  back  to  Ford  with  his 
board.  It  was  a  large  one,  several  inches  thick,  and 
weighed  all  of  seventy-five  pounds.  He  gave  me 
advice,  much  of  it.  He  had  had  no  one  to  teach  him, 
and  all  that  he  had  laboriously  learned  in  several  weeks 
he  communicated  to  me  in  half  an  hour.  I  really 
learned  by  proxy.  And  inside  of  half  an  hour  I  was 
able  to  start  myself  and  ride  in.  I  did  it  time  after 
time,  and  Ford  applauded  and  advised.  For  instance, 
he  told  me  to  get  just  so  far  forward  on  the  board 
and  no  farther.  But  I  must  have  got  some  farther,  for 
as  I  came  charging  in  to  land,  that  miserable  board 
poked  its  nose  down  to  bottom,  stopped  abruptly,  and 
turned  a  somersault,  at  the  same  time  violently  sever 
ing  our  relations.  I  was  tossed  through  the  air  like  a 
chip  and  buried  ignominiously  under  the  downfalling 
breaker.  And  I  realized  that  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
Ford,  I'd  have  been  disembowelled.  That  particular 
risk  is  part  of  the  sport,  Ford  says.  Maybe  he'll  have 


84       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

it  happen  to  him  before  he  leaves  Waikiki,  and  then,  I 
feel  confident,  his  yearning  for  sensation  will  be  satis 
fied  for  a  time. 

When  all  is  said  and  done,  it  is  my  steadfast  belief 
that  homicide  is  worse  than  suicide,  especially  if,  in  the 
former  case,  it  is  a  woman.  Ford  saved  me  from  be 
ing  a  homicide.  "  Imagine  your  legs  are  a  rudder," 
he  said.  "  Hold  them  close  together,  and  steer  with 


Beating  the  Break  of  the  Wave. 


them."  A  few  minutes  later  I  came  charging  in  on  a 
comber.  As  I  neared  the  beach,  there,  in  the  water, 
up  to  her  waist,  dead  in  front  of  me,  appeared  a 
woman.  How  was  I  to  stop  that  comber  on  whose 
back  I  was  ?  It  looked  like  a  dead  woman.  The 
board  weighed  seventy-five  pounds,  I  weighed  a 
hundred  and  sixty-five.  The  added  weight  had  a 
velocity  of  fifteen  miles  per  hour.  The  board  and  I 
constituted  a  projectile.  I  leave  it  to  the  physicists  to 
figure  out  the  force  of  the  impact  upon  that  poor, 
tender  woman.  And  then  I  remembered  my  guardian 
angel,  Ford.  "Steer  with  your  legs!"  rang  through 
my  brain.  I  steered  with  my  legs,  I  steered  sharply, 
abruptly,  with  all  my  legs  and  with  all  my  might.  The 
board  sheered  around  broadside  on  the  crest.  Many 
things  happened  simultaneously.  The  wave  gave  me  a 


A    ROYAL    SPORT  85 

passing  buffet,  a  light  tap  as  the  taps  of  waves  go,  but 
a  tap  sufficient  to  knock  me  off  the  board  and  smash 
me  down  through  the  rushing  water  to  bottom,  with 
which  I  came  in  violent  collision  and  upon  which  I  was 
rolled  over  and  over.  I  got  my  head  out  for  a  breath 
of  air  and  then  gained  my  feet.  There  stood  the 
woman  before  me.  I  felt  like  a  hero.  I  had  saved  her 
life.  And  she  laughed  at  me.  It  was  not  hysteria. 
She  had  never  dreamed  of  her  danger.  Anyway,  I 
solaced  myself,  it  was  not  I  but  Ford  that  saved  her, 
and  I  didn't  have  to  feel  like  a  hero.  And  besides, 
that  leg-steering  was  great.  In  a  few  minutes  more  of 
practice  I  was  able  to  thread  my  way  in  and  out  past 
several  bathers  and  to  remain  on  top  my  breaker 
instead  of  going  under  it. 

"  To-morrow,"  Ford  said,  "  I  am  going  to  take  you 
out  into  the  blue  water." 

I  looked  seaward  where  he  pointed,  and  saw  the 
great  smoking  combers  that  made  the  breakers  I  had 
been  riding  look  like  ripples.  I  don't  know  what  I 
might  have  said  had  I  not  recollected  just  then  that  I 
was  one  of  a  kingly  species.  So  all  that  I  did  say  was, 
"All  right,  I'll  tackle  them  to-morrow." 

The  water  that  rolls  in  on  Waikiki  Beach  is  just 
the  same  as  the  water  that  laves  the  shores  of  all  the 
Hawaiian  Islands ;  and  in  ways,  especially  from  the 
swimmer's  standpoint,  it  is  wonderful  water.  It  is  cool 
enough  to  be  comfortable,  while  it  is  warm  enough  to 
permit  a  swimmer  to  stay  in  all  day  without  experienc 
ing  a  chill.  Under  the  sun  or  the  stars,  at  high  noon 
or  at  midnight,  in  midwinter  or  in  midsummer,  it  does 
not  matter  when,  it  is  always  the  same  temperature  — 
not  too  warm,  not  too  cold,  just  right.  It  is  wonder- 


86       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE   SNARK 

ful  water,  salt  as  old  ocean  itself,  pure  and  crystal-clear. 
When  the  nature  of  the  water  is  considered,  it  is  not  so 
remarkable  after  all  that  the  Kanakas  are  one  of  the 
most  expert  of  swimming  races. 

So  it  was,  next  morning,  when  Ford  came  along, 
that  I  plunged  into  the  wonderful  water  for  a  swim  of 
indeterminate  length.  Astride  of  our  surf-boards,  or, 
rather,  flat  down  upon  them  on  our  stomachs,  we 
paddled  out  through  the  kindergarten  where  the  little 
Kanaka  boys  were  at  play.  Soon  we  were  out  in  deep 
water  where  the  big  smokers  came  roaring  in.  The 
mere  struggle  with  them,  facing  them  and  paddling 
seaward  over  them  and  through  them,  was  sport 
enough  in  itself.  One  had  to  have  his  wits  about  him, 
for  it  was  a  battle  in  which  mighty  blows  were  struck, 
on  one  side,  and  in  which  cunning  was  used  on  the 
other  side  —  a  struggle  between  insensate  force  and  in 
telligence.  I  soon  learned  a  bit.  When  a  breaker 
curled  over  my  head,  for  a  swift  instant  I  could  see  the 
light  of  day  through  its  emerald  body  ;  then  down 
would  go  my  head,  and  I  would  clutch  the  board  with 
all  my  strength.  Then  would  come,  the  blow,  and  to 
the  onlooker  on  shore  I  would  be  blotted  out.  In 
reality  the  board  and  I  have  passed  through  the  crest 
and  emerged  in  the  respite  of  the  other  side.  I  should 
not  recommend  those  smashing  blows  to  an  invalid. or 
delicate  person.  There  is  weight  behind  them,  and  the 
impact  of  the  driven  water  is  like  a  sand-blast.  Some 
times  one  passes  through  half  a  dozen  combers  in  quick 
succession,  and  it  is  just  about  that  time  that  he  is 
liable  to  discover  new  merits  in  the  stable  land  and  new 
reasons  for  being  on  shore. 

Out  there  in  the  midst  of  such  a  succession  of  big 


A   ROYAL   SPORT  87 

smoky  ones,  a  third  man  was  added  to  our  party,  one 
Freeth.  Shaking  the  water  from  my  eyes  as  I  emerged 
from  one  wave  and  peered  ahead  to  see  what  the  next 
one  looked  like,  I  saw  him  tearing  in  on  the  back  of  it, 
standing  upright  on  his  board,  carelessly  poised,  a  young 
god  bronzed  with  sunburn.  We  went  through  the 
wave  on  the  back  of  which  he  rode.  Ford  called  to 
him.  He  turned  an  airspring  from  his  wave,  rescued 
his  board  from  its  maw,  paddled  over  to  us  and  joined 


The  Wave  that  Everybody  Caught. 

Ford  in  showing  me  things.  One  thing  in  particular 
I  learned  from  Freeth,  namely,  how  to  encounter  the 
occasional  breaker  of  exceptional  size  that  rolled  in. 
Such  breakers  were  really  ferocious,  and  it  was  unsafe 
to  meet  them  on  top  of  the  board.  But  Freeth  showed 
me,  so  that  whenever  I  saw  one  of  that  caliber  rolling 
down  on  me,  I  slid  off  the  rear  end  of  the  board  and 
dropped  down  beneath  the  surface,  my  arms  over  my  head 
and  holding  the  board.  Thus,  if  the  wave  ripped  the 
board  out  of  my  hands  and  tried  to  strike  me  with  it  (a 
common  trick  of  such  waves),  there  would  be  a  cushion 
of  water  a  foot  or  more  in  depth,  between  my  head  and 
the  blow.  When  the  wave  passed,  I  climbed  upon 


88       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

the  board  and  paddled  on.  Many  men  have  been 
terribly  injured,  I  learn,  by  being  struck  by  their 
boards. 

The  whole  method  of  surf-riding  and  surf-fighting, 
I  learned,  is  one  of  non-resistance.  Dodge  the  blow 
that  is  struck  at  you.  Dive  through  the  wave  that  is 
trying  to  slap  you  in  the  face.  Sink  down,  feet  first, 
deep  under  the  surface,  and  let  the  big  smoker  that  is 
trying  to  smash  you  go  by  far  overhead.  Never  be 
rigid.  Relax.  .  Yield  yourself  to  the  waters  that  are 
ripping  and  tearing  at  you.  When  the  undertow 
catches  you  and  drags  you  seaward  along  the  bottom, 
don't  struggle  against  it.  If  you  do,  you  are  liable  to  be 
drowned,  for  it  is  stronger  than  you.  Yield  yourself 
to  that  undertow.  Swim  with  it,  not  against  it,  and 
you  will  find  the  pressure  removed.  And,  swimming 
with  it,  fooling  it  so  that  it  does  not  hold  you,  swim 
upward  at  the  same  time.  It  will  be  no  trouble  at  all 
to  reach  the  surface. 

The  man  who  wants  to  learn  surf-riding  must  be  a 
strong  swimmer,  and  he  must  be  used  to  going  under 
the  water.  After  that,  fair  strength  and  common-sense 
are  all  that  is  required.  The  force  of  the  big  comber  is 
rather  unexpected.  There  are  mix-ups  in  which  board 
and  rider  are  torn  apart  and  separated  by  several  hun 
dred  feet.  The  surf-rider  must  take  care  of  himself. 
No  matter  how  many  riders  swim  out  with  him,  he 
cannot  depend  upon  any  of  them  for  aid.  The  fancied 
security  I  had  in  the  presence  of  Ford  and  Freeth  made 
me  forget  that  it  was  my  first  swim  out  in  deep  water 
among  the  big  ones.  I  recollected,  however,  and 
rather  suddenly,  for  a  big  wave  came  in,  and  away  went 
the  two  men  on  its  back  all  the  way  to  shore.  I 


A   ROYAL  SPORT  89 

could  have  been  drowned  a  dozen  different  ways  before 
they  got  back  to  me. 

One  slides  down  the  face  of  a  breaker  on  his  surf-board, 
but  he  has  to  get  started  to  sliding.  Board  and  rider  must 
be  moving  shoreward  at  a  good  rate  before  the  wave 
overtakes  them.  When  you  see  the  wave  coming  that 
you  want  to  ride  in,  you  turn  tail  to  it  and  paddle 
shoreward  with  all  your  strength,  using  what  is  called 
the  windmill  stroke.  This  is  a  sort  of  spurt  performed 
immediately  in  front  of  the  wave.  If  the  board  is  go 
ing  fast  enough,  the  wave  accelerates  it,  and  the  board 
begins  its  quarter-of-a-mile  slide. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  first  big  wave  I  caught  out 
there  in  the  deep  water.  I  saw  it  coming,  turned  my 
back  on  it  and  paddled  for  dear  life.  Faster  and  faster 
my  board  went,  till  it  seemed  my  arms  would  drop  off. 
What  was  happening  behind  me  I  could  not  tell.  One 
cannot  look  behind  and  paddle  the  windmill  stroke. 
I  heard  the  crest  of  the  wave  hissing  and  churning,  and 
then  my  board  was  lifted  and  flung  forward.  I  scarcely 
knew  what  happened  the  first  half-minute.  Though  I 
kept  my  eyes  open,  I  could  not  see  anything,  for  I 
was  buried  in  the  rushing  white  of  the  crest.  But 
I  did  not  mind.  I  was  chiefly  conscious  of  ecstatic  bliss 
at  having  caught  the  wave.  At  the  end  of  the  half-min 
ute,  however,  I  began  to  see  things,  and  to  breathe.  I 
saw  that  three  feet  of  the  nose  of  my  board  was  clear 
out  of  water  and  riding  on  the  air.  I  shifted  my  weight 
forward,  and  made  the  nose  come  down.  Then  I  lay, 
quite  at  rest  in  the  midst  of  the  wild  movement,  and 
watched  the  shore  and  the  bathers  on  the  beach  grow 
distinct.  I  didn't  cover  quite  a  quarter  of  a  mile  on 
that  wave,  because,  to  prevent  the  board  from  div- 


9o       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

ing,  I   shifted  my   weight  back,  but  shifted  it  too  far 
and  fell  down  the  rear  slope  of  the  wave. 

It  was  my  second  day  at  surf-riding,  and  I  was  quite 
proud  of  myself.  I  stayed  out  there  four  hours,  and  when 
it  was  over,  I  was  resolved  that  on  the  morrow  I'd  come 
in  standing  up.  But  that  resolution  paved  a  distant 
place.  On  the  morrow  I  was  in  bed.  I  was  not  sick, 
but  I  was  very  unhappy,  and  I  was  in  bed.  When 
describing  the  wonderful  water  of  Hawaii  I  forgot  to 
describe  the  wonderful  sun  of  Hawaii.  It  is  a  tropic 
sun,  and,  furthermore,  in  the  first  part  of  June,  it  is  an 
overhead  sun.  It  is  also  an  insidious,  deceitful  sun. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  was  sunburned  unawares. 
My  arms,  shoulders,  and  back  had  been  burned  many 
times  in  the  past  and  were  tough  ;  but  not  so  my  legs. 
And  for  four  hours  I  had  exposed  the  tender  backs  of  my 
legs,  at  right-angles,  to  that  perpendicular  Hawaiian  sun. 
It  was  not  until  after  I  got  ashore  that  I  discovered  the 
sun  had  touched  me.  Sunburn  at  first  is  merely  warm  ; 
after  that  it  grows  intense  and  the  blisters  come  out. 
Also,  the  joints,  where  the  skin  wrinkles,  refuse  to  bend. 
That  is  why  I  spent  the  next  day  in  bed.  I  couldn't 
walk.  And  that  is  why,  to-day,  I  am  writing  this  in 
bed.  It  is  easier  to  than  not  to.  But  to-morrow,  ah, 
to-morrow,  I  shall  be  out  in  that  wonderful  water,  and 
I  shall  come  in  standing  up,  even  as  Ford  and  Freeth. 
And  if  I  fail  to-morrow,  I  shall  do  it  the  next  day,  or 
the  next.  Upon  one  thing  I  am  resolved  :  the  Snark 
shall  not  sail  from  Honolulu  until  I,  too,  wing  my 
heels  with  the  swiftness  of  the  sea,  and  become  a  sun 
burned,  skin-peeling  Mercury. 


CHAPTER   VII 

The  Lepers  of  Molokai 

WHEN  the  Snark  sailed  along  the  windward  coast  of 
Molokai,  on  her  way  to  Honolulu,  I  looked  at  the 
chart,  then  pointed  to  a  low-lying  peninsula  backed 
by  a  tremendous  cliff  varying  from  two  to  four  thou 
sand  feet  in  height,  and  said :  "  The  pit  of  hell,  the 
most  cursed  place  on  earth."  I  should  have  been 
shocked,  if,  at  that  moment,  I  could  have  caught  a 
vision  of  myself  a  month  later,  ashore  in  the  most 
cursed  place  on  earth  and  having  a  disgracefully  good 
time  along  with  eight  hundred  of  the  lepers  who  were 
likewise  having  a  good  time.  Their  good  time  was 
not  disgraceful ;  but  mine  was,  for  in  the  midst  of  so 
much  misery  it  was  not  meet  for  me  to  have  a  good 
time.  That  is  the  way  I  felt  about  it,  and  my  only 
excuse  is  that  I  couldn't  help  having  a  good  time. 

For  instance,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  Fourth  of 
July  all  the  lepers  gathered  at  the  race-track  for  the 
sports.  I  had  wandered  away  from  the  Superinten 
dent  and  the  physicians  in  order  to  get  a  snapshot  of 
the  finish  of  one  of  the  races.  It  was  an  interesting 
race,  and  partisanship  ran  high.  Three  horses  were 
entered,  one  ridden  by  a  Chinese,  one  by  an  Hawaiian, 
and  one  by  a  Portuguese  boy.  All  three  riders  were 
lepers  ;  so  were  the  judges  and  the  crowd.  The  race 
was  twice  around  the  track.  The  Chinese  and  the 
Hawaiian  got  away  together  and  rode  neck  and  neck, 
the  Portuguese  boy  toiling  along  two  hundred  feet 

91 


92       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

behind.  Around  they  went  in  the  same  positions. 
Halfway  around  on  the  second  and  final  lap  the 
Chinese  pulled  away  and  got  one  length  ahead  of  the 
Hawaiian.  At  the  same  time  the  Portuguese  boy  was 
beginning  to  crawl  up.  But  it  looked  hopeless.  The 
crowd  went  wild.  All  the  lepers  were  passionate  lovers 
of  horseflesh.  The  Portuguese  boy  crawled  nearer 
and  nearer.  I  went  wild,  too.  They  were  on  the 
home  stretch.  The  Portuguese  boy  passed  the  Ha 
waiian.  There  was  a  thunder  of  hoofs,  a  rush  of  the 
three  horses  bunched  together,  the  jockeys  plying 
their  whips,  and  every  last  onlooker  bursting  his 
throat,  or  hers,  with  shouts  and  yells.  Nearer,  nearer, 
inch  by  inch,  the  Portuguese  boy  crept  up,  and  passed, 
yes,  passed,  winning  by  a  head  from  the  Chinese.  I 
came  to  myself  in  a  group  of  lepers.  They  were 
yelling,  tossing  their  hats,  and  dancing  around  like 
fiends.  So  was  I.  When. I  came  to  I  was  waving  my 
hat  and  murmuring  ecstatically  :  "  By  golly,  the  boy 
wins  !  The  boy  wins  !  " 

I  tried  to  check  myself.  I  assured  myself  that  I 
was  witnessing  one  of  the  horrors  of  Molokai,  and 
that  it  was  shameful  for  me,  under  such  circumstances, 
to  be  so  light-hearted  and  light-headed.  But  it  was 
no  use.  The  next  event  was  a  donkey-race,  and  it  was 
just  starting;  so  was  the  fun.  The  last  donkey  in 
was  to  win  the  race,  and  what  complicated  the  affair 
was  that  no  rider  rode  his  own  donkey.  They  rode 
one  another's  donkeys,  the  result  of  which  was  that 
each  man  strove  to  make  the  donkey  he  rode  beat  his 
own  donkey  ridden  by  some  one  else.  Naturally,  only 
men  possessing  very  slow  or  extremely  obstreperous 
donkeys  had  entered  them  for  the  race.  One  donkey 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI 


93 


94       THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

had  been  trained  to  tuck  in  its  legs  and  lie  down  when 
ever  its  rider  touched  its  sides  with  his  heels.  Some 
donkeys  strove  to  turn  around  and  come  back  ;  others 
developed  a  penchant  for  the  side  of  the  track,  where 
they  stuck  their  heads  over  the  railing  and  stopped  ; 
while  all  of  them  dawdled.  Halfway  around  the 
track  one  donkey  got  into  an  argument  with  its  rider. 
When  all  the  rest  of  the  donkeys  had  crossed  the  wire, 
that  particular  donkey  was  still  arguing.  He  won  the 
race,  though  his  rider  lost  it  and  came  in  on  foot. 
And  all  the  while  nearly  a  thousand  lepers  were  laugh 
ing  uproariously  at  the  fun.  Anybody  in  my  place 
would  have  joined  with  them  in  having  a  good  time. 

All  the  foregoing  is  by  way  of  preamble  to  the  state 
ment  that  the  horrors  of  Molokai,  as  they  have  been 
painted  in  the  past,  do  not  exist.  The  Settlement  has 
been  written  up  repeatedly  by  sensationalists,  and 
usually  by  sensationalists  who  have  never  laid  eyes  on 
it.  Of  course,  leprosy  is  leprosy,  and  it  is  a  terrible 
thing ;  but  so  much  that  is  lurid  has  been  written 
about  Molokai  that  neither  the  lepers,  nor  those  who 
devote  their  lives  to  them,  have  received  a  fair  deal. 
Here  is  a  case  in  point.  A  newspaper  writer,  who,  of  ' 
course,  had  never  been  near  the  Settlement,  vividly 
described  Superintendent  McVeigh,  crouching  in  a 
grass  hut  and  being  besieged  nightly  by  starving  lepers 
on  their  knees,  wailing  for  food.  This  hair-raising  ac 
count  was  copied  by  the  press  all  over  the  United 
States  and  was  the  cause  of  many  indignant  and  pro 
testing  editorials.  Well,  I  lived  and  slept  for  five 
days  in  Mr.  McVeigh's  grass  hut  (which  was  a  com 
fortable  wooden  cottage,  by  the  way ;  and  there,  isn't  a 
grass  house  in  the  whole  Settlement),  and  I  heard 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI  95 

the  lepers  wailing  for  food  —  only  the  wailing  was 
peculiarly  harmonious  and  rhythmic,  and  it  was  accom 
panied  by  the  music  of  stringed  instruments,  violins, 
guitars,  ukuleles,  and  banjos.  Also,  the  wailing  was 
of  various  sorts.  The  leper  brass  band  wailed,  and 
two  singing  societies  wailed,  and  lastly  a  quintet  of  ex 
cellent  voices  wailed.  So  much  for  a  lie  that  should 
never  have  been  printed.  The  wailing  was  the  serenade 
which  the  glee  clubs  always  give  Mr.  McVeigh  when 
he  returns  from  a  trip  to  Honolulu. 

Leprosy  is  not  so  contagious  as  is  imagined.  I  went 
for  a  week's  visit  to  the  Settlement,  and  I  took  my 
wife  along  —  all  of  which  would  not  have  happened 
had  we  had  any  apprehension  of  contracting  the  disease. 
Nor  did  we  wear  long,  gauntleted  gloves  and  keep 
apart  from  the  lepers.  On  the  contrary,  we  mingled 
freely  with  them,  and  before  we  left,  knew  scores  of 
them  by  sight  and  name.  The  precautions  of  simple 
cleanliness  seem  to  be  all  that  are  necessary.  On  re 
turning  to  their  own  houses,  after  having  been  among 
and  handling  lepers,  the  non-lepers,  such  as  the  physi 
cians  and  the  superintendent,  merely  wash  their  faces 
and  hands  with  mildly  antiseptic  soap  and  change  their 
coats. 

That  a  leper  is  unclean,  however,  should  be  insisted 
upon  ;  and  the  segregation  of  lepers,  from  what  little 
is  known  of  the  disease,  should  be  rigidly  maintained. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  awful  horror  with  which  the 
leper  has  been  regarded  in  the  past,  and  the  frightful 
treatment  he  has  received,  have  been  unnecessary  and 
cruel.  In  order  to  dispel  some  of  the  popular  misap 
prehensions  of  leprosy,  I  want  to  tell  something  of  the 
relations  between  the  lepers  and  non-lepers  as  I  ob- 


96       THE   CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

served  them  at  Molokai.  On  the  morning  after  our 
arrival  Charmian  and  I  attended  a  shoot  of  the 
Kalaupapa  Rifle  Club,  and  caught  our  first  glimpse  of 
the  democracy  of  affliction  and  alleviation  that  obtains. 
The  club  was  just  beginning  a  prize  shoot  for  a  cup 
put  up  by  Mr.  McVeigh,  who  is  also  a  member  of  the 
club,  as  also  are  Dr.  Goodhue  and  Dr.  Hollmann,  the 
resident  physicians  (who,  by  the  way,  live  in  the  Settle- 


Molokai.     Pa-u  Riders  on  Morning  of  Fourth  of  July. 

ment  with  their  wives).  All  about  us,  in  the  shooting 
booth,  were  the  lepers.  Lepers  and  non-lepers  were 
using  the  same  guns,  and  all  were  rubbing  shoulders 
in  the  confined  space.  The  majority  of  the  lepers 
were  Hawaiians.  Sitting  beside  me  on  a  bench  was  a 
Norwegian.  Directly  in  front  of  me,  in  the  stand, 
was  an  American,  a  veteran  of  the  Civil  War,  who  had 
fought  on  the  Confederate  side.  He  was  sixty-five 
years  of  age,  but  that  did  not  prevent  him  from  run 
ning  up  a  good  score.  Strapping  Hawaiian  policemen, 
lepers,  khaki-clad,  were  also  shooting,  as  were  Portu 
guese,  Chinese,  and  kokuas  —  the  latter  are  native 
helpers  in  the  Settlement  who  are  non-lepers.  And 
on  the  afternoon  that  Charmian  and  I  climbed  the 
two-thousand-foot  pali  and  looked  our  last  upon  the 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI  97 

Settlement,  the  superintendent,  the  doctors, and  the  mix 
ture  of  nationalities  and  of  diseased  and  non-diseased 
were  all  engaged  in  an  exciting  baseball  game. 

Not  so  was  the  leper  and  his  greatly  misunderstood 
and  feared  disease  treated  during  the  middle  ages  in 
Europe.  At  that  time  the  leper  was  considered  legally 
and  politically  dead.  He  was  placed  in  a  funeral  pro 
cession  and  led  to  the  church,  where  the  burial  service 
was  read  over  him  by  the  officiating  clergyman.  Then 
a  spadeful  of  earth  was  dropped  upon  his  chest  and  he 
was  dead  —  living  dead.  While  this  rigorous  treatment 
was  largely  unnecessary,  nevertheless,  one  thing  was 
learned  by  it.  Leprosy  was  unknown  in  Europe  un 
til  it  was  introduced  by  the  returning  Crusaders,  where 
upon  it  spread  slowly  until  it  had  seized  upon  large 
numbers  of  the  people.  Obviously,  it  was  a  disease 
that  could  be  contracted  by  contact.  It  was  a  conta 
gion,  and  it  was  equally  obvious  that  it  could  be  eradi 
cated  by  segregation.  Terrible  and  monstrous  as  was 
the  treatment  of  the  leper  in  those  days,  the  great 
lesson  of  segregation  was  learned.  By  its  means 
leprosy  was  stamped  out. 

And  by  the  same  means  leprosy  is  even  now  de 
creasing  in  the  Hawaiian  Islands.  But  the  segregation 
of  the  lepers  on  Molokai  is  not  the  horrible  nightmare 
that  has  been  so  often  exploited  by  yellow  writers.  In 
the  first  place,  the  leper  is  not  torn  ruthlessly  from  his 
family.  When  a  suspect  is  discovered,  he  is  invited 
by  the  Board  of  Health  to  come  to  the  Kalihi  receiv 
ing  station  at  Honolulu.  His  fare  and  all  expenses 
are  paid  for  him.  He  is  first  passed  upon  by  micro 
scopical  examination  by  the  bacteriologist  of  the  Board 
of  Health.  If  the  bacillus  lepra  is  found,  the  patient 


98       THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

is  examined  by  the  Board  of  Examining  Physicians, 
five  in  number.  If  found  by  them  to  be  a  leper,  he 
is  so  declared,  which  finding  is  later  officially  confirmed 
by  the  Board  of  Health,  and  the  leper  is  ordered  sent 
to  Molokai.  Furthermore,  during  the  thorough  trial 
that  is  given  his  case,  the  patient  has  the  right  to  be 
represented  by  a  physician  whom  he  can  select  and 
employ  for  himself.  Nor,  after  having  been  declared 
a  leper,  is  the  patient  immediately  rushed  off  to  Mo 
lokai.  He  is  given  ample  time,  weeks,  and  even 
months,  sometimes,  during  which  he  stays  at  Kalihi 
and  winds  up  or  arranges  all  his  business  affairs.  At 
Molokai,  in  turn,  he  may  be  visited  by  his  relatives, 
business  agents,  etc.,  though  they  are  not  permitted  to 
eat  and  sleep .  in  his  house.  Visitors'  houses,  kept 
"  clean,"  are  maintained  for  this  purpose. 

I  saw  an  illustration  of  the  thorough  trial  given  the 
suspect,  when  I  visited  Kalihi  with  Mr.  Pinkham, 
president  of  the  Board  of  Health.  The  suspect  was 
an  Hawaiian,  seventy  years  of  age,  who  for  thirty-four 
years  had  worked  in  Honolulu  as  a  pressman  in  a 
printing  office.  The  bacteriologist  had  decided  that 
he  was  a  leper,  the  Examining  Board  had  been  unable 
to  make  up  its  mind,  and  that  day  all  had  come  out  to 
Kalihi  to  make  another  examination. 

When  at  Molokai,  the  declared  leper  has  the  priv 
ilege  of  reexamination,  and  patients  are  continually 
coming  back  to  Honolulu  for  that  purpose.  The 
steamer  that  took  me  to  Molokai  had  on  board  two 
returning  lepers,  both  young  women,  one  of  whom  had 
come  to  Honolulu  to  settle  up  some  property  she  owned, 
and  the  other  had  come  to  Honolulu  to  see  her  sick 
mother.  Both  had  remained  at  Kalihi  for  a  month. 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI 


99 


ioo     THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

The  Settlement  of  Molokai  enjoys  a  far  more  de 
lightful  climate  than  even  Honolulu,  being  situated  on 
the  windward  side  of  the  island  in  the  path  of  the  fresh 
northeast  trades.  The  scenery  is  magnificent ;  on  one 
side  is  the  blue  sea,  on  the  other  the  wonderful  wall  of 
the  paliy  receding  here  and  there  into  beautiful  moun 
tain  valleys.  Everywhere  are  grassy  pastures  over 
which  roam  the  hundreds  of  horses  which  are  owned 
by  the  lepers.  Some  of  them  have  their  own  carts, 
rigs,  and  traps.  In  the  little  harbor  of  Kalaupapa  lie 
fishing  boats  and  a  steam  launch,  all  of  which  are  pri 
vately  owned  and  operated  by  lepers.  Their  bounds 
upon  the  sea  are,  of  course,  determined ;  otherwise  no 
restriction  is. put  upon  their  seafaring.  Their  fish  they 
sell  to  the  Board  of  Health,  and  the  money  they  re 
ceive  is  their  own.  While  I  was  there,  one  night's 
catch  was  four  thousand  pounds. 

And  as  these  men  fish,  others  farm.  All  trades  are 
followed.  One  leper,  a  pure  Hawaiian,  is  the  boss 
painter.  He  employs  eight  men,  and  takes  contracts 
for  painting  buildings  from  the  Board  of  Health.  He 
is  a  member  of  the  Kalaupapa  Rifle  Club,  where  I  met 
him,  and  I  must  confess  that  he  was  far  better  dressed 
than  I.  Another  man,  similarly  situated,  is  the  boss 
carpenter.  Then,  in  addition  to  the  Board  of  Health 
store,  there  are  little  privately  owned  stores,  where 
those  with  shopkeeper's  souls  may  exercise  their 
peculiar  instincts.  The  Assistant  Superintendent, 
Mr.  Waiamau,  a  finely  educated  and  able  man,  is  a 
pure  Hawaiian  and  a  leper.  Mr.  Bartlett,  who  is  the 
present  storekeeper,  is  an  American  who  was  in  busi 
ness  in  Honolulu  before  he  was  struck  down  by  the 
disease.  All  that  these  men  earn  is  that  much  in  their 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI         101 

own  pockets.  If  they  do  not  work,  they  are  taken 
care  of  anyway  by  the  territory,  given  food,  shelter, 
clothes,  and  medical  attendance.  The  Board  of  Health 
carries  on  agriculture,  stock-raising,  and  dairying,  for 
local  use,  and  employment  at  fair  wages  is  furnished  to 
all  that  wish  to  work.  They  are  not  compelled  to 
work,  however,  for  they  are  the  wards  of  the  territory. 
For  the  young,  and  the  very  old,  and  the  helpless 
there  are  homes  and  hospitals. 

Major  Lee,  an  American  and  long  a  marine  engineer 
for  the  Inter  Island  Steamship  Company,  I  met  ac 
tively  at  work  in  the  new  steam  laundry,  where  he  was 
busy  installing  the  machinery.  I  met  him  often,  after 
wards,  and  one  day  he  said  to  me : 

"  Give  us  a  good  breeze  about  how  we  live  here. 
For  heaven's  sake  write  us  up  straight.  Put  your  foot 
down  on  this  chamber-of-horrors  rot  and  all  the  rest 
of  it.  We  don't  like  being  misrepresented.  We've 
got  some  feelings.  Just  tell  the  world  how  we  really 
are  in  here." 

Man  after  man  that  I  met  in  the  Settlement,  and 
woman  after  woman,  in  one  way  or  another  expressed 
the  same  sentiment.  It  was  patent  that  they  resented 
bitterly  the  sensational  and  untruthful  way  in  which 
they  have  been  exploited  in  the  past. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  are  afflicted  by  disease, 
the  lepers  form  a  happy  colony,  divided  into  two  vil 
lages  and  numerous  country  and  seaside  homes,  of 
nearly  a  thousand  souls.  They  have  six  churches,  a 
Young;  Men's  Christian  Association  building;,  several 

O  O^ 

assembly  halls,  a  band  stand,  a  race-track,  baseball 
grounds,  and  shooting  ranges,  an  athletic  club,  numer 
ous  glee  clubs,  and  two  brass  bands. 


102      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE  SNARK 

"  They  are  so  contented  down  there/'  Mr.  Pinkham 
told  me,  "  that  you  can't  drive  them  away  with  a  shot 
gun." 

This  I  later  verified  for  myself.  In  January  of  this 
year,  eleven  of  the  lepers,  on  whom  the  disease,  after 
having  committed  certain  ravages,  showed  no  further 


Molokai.     Leper  Fishermen  in  their  Boats  at  Boat  Landing. 

signs  of  activity,  were  brought  back  to  Honolulu  for 
reexamination.  They  were  loath  to  come;  and,  on 
being  asked  whether  or  not  they  wanted  to  go  free 
if  found  clean  of  leprosy,  one  and  all  answered,  "  Back 
to  Molokai." 

In  the  old  days,  before  the  discovery  of  the  leprosy 
bacillus,  a  small  number  of  men  and  women,  suffering 
from  various  and  wholly  different  diseases,  were  ad 
judged  lepers  and  sent  to  Molokai.  Years  afterward 
they  suffered  great  consternation  when  the  bacteriolo 
gists  declared  that  they  were  not  afflicted  with  leprosy 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI          103 

and  never  had  been.  They  fought  against  being  sent 
away  from  Molokai,  and  in  one  way  or  another,  as 
helpers  and  nurses,  they  got  jobs  from  the  Board  of 
Health  and  remained.  The  present  jailer  is  one  of 
these  men.  Declared  to  be  a  non-leper,  he  accepted, 
on  salary,  the  charge  of  the  jail,  in  order  to  escape 
being  sent  away. 

At  the  present  moment,  in  Honolulu,  there  is  a  boot 
black.  He  is  an  American  negro.  Mr.  McVeigh  told 
me  about  him.  Long  ago,  before  the  bacteriological 
tests,  he  was  sent  to  Molokai  as  a  leper.  As  a  ward  of 
the  state  he  developed  a  superlative  degree  of  indepen 
dence  and  fomented  much  petty  mischief.  And  then, 
one  day,  after  having  been  for  years  a  perennial  source 
of  minor  annoyances,  the  bacteriological  test  was  applied, 
and  he  was  declared  a  non-leper. 

"Ah,  ha!"  chortled  Mr.  McVeigh.  "Now  I've 
got  you  !  Out  you  go  on  the  next  steamer  and  good 
riddance  !  " 

But  the  negro  didn't  want  to  go.  Immediately  he 
married  an  old  woman,  in  the  last  stages  of  leprosy, 
and  began  petitioning  the  Board  of  Health  for  per 
mission  to  remain  and  nurse  his  sick  wife.  There  was 
no  one,  he  said  pathetically,  who  could  take  care  of  his 
poor  wife  as  well  as  he  could.  But  they  saw  through 
his  game,  and  he  was  deported  on  the  steamer  and 
given  the  freedom  of  the  world.  But  he  preferred 
Molokai.  Landing  on  the  leeward  side  of  Molokai, 
he  sneaked  down  the  pali  one  night  and  took  up  his 
abode  in  the  Settlement.  He  was  apprehended,  tried 
and  convicted  of  trespass,  sentenced  to  pay  a  small  fine, 
and  again  deported  on  the  steamer  with  the  warning 
that  if  he  trespassed  again,  he  would  be  fined  one  hun- 


io4      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

dred  dollars  and  be  sent  to  prison  in  Honolulu.  And 
now,  when  Mr.  McVeigh  comes  up  to  Honolulu,  the 
bootblack  shines  his  shoes  for  him  and  says  : 

"  Say,  Boss,  I  lost  a  good  home  down  there.  Yes, 
sir,  I  lost  a  good  home."  Then  his  voice  sinks  to  a  confi 
dential  whisper  as  he  says,  "  Say,  Boss,  can't  I  go  back? 
Can't  you  fix  it  for  me  so  as  I  can  go  back?  " 

He  had  lived   nine  years  on   Molokai,  and  he  had 


Molokai.      Village   of  Kalaupapa.     The   Pali,    or   Precipice,    in  the  Back 
ground  varies  in  Height  between  Two  Thousand  and  Four  Thousand  Feet. 

had  a  better  time  there  than  he  had  ever  had,  before 
and  after,  on  the  outside. 

As  regards  the  fear  of  leprosy  itself,  nowhere  in  the 
Settlement  among  lepers,  or  non-lepers,  did  I  see  any  sign 
of  it.  The  chief  horror  of  leprosy  obtains  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  have  never  seen  a  leper  and  who  do 
not  know  anything  about  the  disease.  At  the  hotel  at 
Waikiki  a  lady  expressed  shuddering  amazement  at 
my  having  the  hardihood  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Settle 
ment.  On  talking  with  her  I  learned  that  she  had 
been  born  in  Honolulu,  had  lived  there  all  her  life, 
and  had  never  laid  eyes  on  a  leper.  That  was  more 
than  I  could  say  of  myself  in  the  United  States,  where 
the  segregation  of  lepers  is  loosely  enforced  and  where 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKA1         105 

I  have  repeatedly  seen  lepers  on  the  streets  of  large 
cities. 

Leprosy  is  terrible,  there  is  no  getting  away  from 
that;  but  from  what  little  I  know  of  the  disease  and 
its  degree  of  contagiousness,  I  would  by  far  prefer  to 
spend  the  rest  of  my  days  in  Molokai  than  in  any 
tuberculosis  sanitarium.  In  every  city  and  county 
hospital  for  poor  people  in  the  United  States,  or  in 
similar  institutions  in  other  countries,  sights  as  terrible 
as  those  in  Molokai  can  be  witnessed,  and  the  sum 
total  of  these  sights  is  vastly  more  terrible.  For  that 
matter,  if  it  were  given  me  to  choose  between  being 
compelled  to  live  in  Molokai  for  the  rest  of  my  life, 
or  in  the  East  End  of  London,  the  East  Side  of  New 
York,  or  the  Stockyards  of  Chicago,  I  would  select 
Molokai  without  debate.  I  would  prefer  one  year  of 
life  in  Molokai  to  five  years  of  life  in  the  above-mentioned 
cesspools  of  human  degradation  and  misery. 

In  Molokai  the  people  are  happy.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  celebration  of  the  Fourth  of  July  I  witnessed 
there.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  "  horribles  " 
were  out,  dressed  fantastically,  astride  horses,  mules, 
and  donkeys  (their  own  property),  and  cutting  capers 
all  over  the  Settlement.  Two  brass  bands  were  out 
as  well.  Then  there  were  the  pa-u  riders,  thirty  or 
forty  of  them,  Hawaiian  women  all,  superb  horsewomen 
dressed  gorgeously  in  the  old,  native  riding  costume, 
and  dashing  about  in  twos  and  threes  and  groups.  In 
the  afternoon  Charmian  and  I  stood  in  the  judge's 
stand  and  awarded  the  prizes  for  horsemanship  and 
costume  to  thepa-u  riders.  All  about  were  the  hundreds 
of  lepers,  with  wreaths  of  flowers  on  heads  and  necks 
and  shoulders,  looking  on  and  making  merry.  And 


io6      THE   CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

always,  over  the  brows  of  hills  and  across  the  grassy 
level  stretches,  appearing  and  disappearing,  were  the 
groups  of  men  and  women,  gayly  dressed,  on  galloping 
horses,  horses  and  riders  flower-bedecked  and  flower- 
garlanded,  singing,  and  laughing,  and  riding  like  the 
wind.  And  as  I  stood  in  the  judge's  stand  and  looked 
at  all  this,  there  came  to  my  recollection  the  lazar  house 
of  Havana,  where  I  had  once  beheld  some  two  hundred 
lepers,  prisoners  inside  four  restricted  walls  until  they 


Molokai.     Looking  down  Damien  Road. 

died.  No,  there  are  a  few  thousand  places  I  wot  of  in 
this  world  over  which  I  would  select  Molokai  as  a 
place  of  permanent  residence.  In  the  evening  we  went 
to  one  of  the  leper  assembly  halls,  where,  before  a 
crowded  audience,  the  singing  societies  contested  for 
prizes,  and  where  the  night  wound  up  with  a  dance. 
I  have  seen  the  Hawaiians  living  in  the  slums  of 
Honolulu,  and,  having  seen  them,  I  can  readily  under 
stand  why  the  lepers,  brought  up  from  the  Settlement 
for  reexamination,  shouted  one  and  all,  "  Back  to 
Molokai !  " 

One  thing  is  certain.  The  leper  in  the  Settlement 
is  far  better  off  than  the  leper  who  lies  in  hiding  out 
side.  Such  a  leper  is  a  lonely  outcast,  living  in  constant 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI         107 

fear  of  discovery  and  slowly  and  surely  rotting  away. 
The  action  of  leprosy  is  not  steady.  It  lays  hold  of 
its  victim,  commits  a  ravage,  and  then  lies  dormant  for 
an  indeterminate  period.  It  may  not  commit  another 
ravage  for  five  years,  or  ten  years,  or  forty  years, 
and  the  patient  may  enjoy  uninterrupted  good  health. 
Rarely,  however,  do  these  first  ravages  cease  of  them 
selves.  The  skilled  surgeon  is  required,  and  the  skilled 
surgeon  cannot  be  called  in  for  the  leper  who  is  in 
hiding.  For  instance,  the  first  ravage  may  take  the 
form  of  a  perforating  ulcer  in  the  sole  of  the  foot. 
When  the  bone  is  reached,  necrosis  sets  in.  If  the 
leper  is  in  hiding,  he  cannot  be  operated  upon,  the 
necrosis  will  continue  to  eat  its  way  up  the  bone  of 
the  leg,  and  in  a  brief  and  horrible  time  that  leper  will 
die  of  gangrene  or  some  other  terrible  complication. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  that  same  leper  is  in  Molokai, 
the  surgeon  will  operate  upon  the  foot,  remove  the 
ulcer,  cleanse  the  bone,  and  put  a  complete  stop  to 
that  particular  ravage  of  the  disease.  A  month  after 
the  operation  the  leper  will  be  out  riding  horseback, 
running  foot  races,  swimming  in  the  breakers,  or  climb 
ing  the  giddy  sides  of  the  valleys  for  mountain  apples. 
And  as  has  been  stated  before,  the  disease,  lying  dor 
mant,  may  not  again  attack  him  for  five,  ten,  or  forty 
years. 

The  old  horrors  of  leprosy  go  back  to  the  conditions 
that  obtained  before  the  days  of  antiseptic  surgery,  and 
before  the  time  when  physicians  like  Dr.  Goodhue  and 
Dr.  Hollmann  went  to  live  at  the  Settlement.  Dr. 
Goodhue  is  the  pioneer  surgeon  there,  and  too  much 
praise  cannot  be  given  him  for  the  noble  work  he  has 
done.  I  spent  one  morning  in  the  operating  room 


io8      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


with  him  and  of  the  three  operations  he  performed, 
two  were  on  men,  newcomers,  who  had  arrived  on  the 
same  steamer  with  me.  In  each  case,  the  disease  had 
attacked  in  one  spot  only.  One  had  a  perforat 
ing  ulcer  in  the  ankle,  well  advanced,  and  the  other 
man  was  suffering  from  a  similar 
affliction,  well  advanced,  under 
his  arm.  Both  cases  were  well 
advanced  because  the  man  had 
been  on  the  outside  and  had  not 
been  treated.  In  each  case,  Dr. 
Goodhue  put  an  immediate  and 
complete  stop  to  the  ravage,  and 
in  four  weeks  those  two  men  will 
be  as  well  and  able-bodied  as  they 
ever  were  in  their  lives.  The 
only  difference  between  them  and 
you  or  me  is  that  the  disease  is 
lying  dormant  in  their  bodies  and 
may  at  any  future  time  commit 
another  ravage. 
Leprosy  is  as  old  as  history.  References  to  it  are 
found  in  the  earliest  written  records.  And  yet  to-day 
practically  nothing  more  is  known  about  it  than  was 
known  then.  This  much  was  known  then,  namely, 
that  it  was  contagious  and  that  those  afflicted  by  it 
should  be  segregated.  The  difference  between  then 
and  now  is  that  to-day  the  leper  is  more  rigidly  segre 
gated  and  more  humanely  treated.  But  leprosy  itself 
still  remains  the  same  awful  and  profound  mystery.  A 
reading  of  the  reports  of  the  physicians  and  specialists 
of  all  countries  reveals  the  baffling  nature  of  the  disease. 
These  leprosy  specialists  are  unanimous  on  no  one 


Molokai.      Father  Dami- 
en's  Church. 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI          109 

phase  of  the  disease.  They  do  not  know.  In  the 
past  they  rashly  and  dogmatically  generalized.  They 
generalize  no  longer.  The  one  possible  generalization 
that  can  be  drawn  from  all  the  investigation  that  has 
been  made  is  that  leprosy  is  feebly  contagious.  But  in 
what  manner  it  is  feebly  contagious  is  not  known. 
They  have  isolated  the  bacillus  of  leprosy.  They  can 
determine  by  bacteriological  examination  whether  or 
not  a  person  is  a  leper ;  but  they  are  as  far  away  as 
ever  from  knowing  how  that  bacillus  finds  its  entrance 
into  the  body  of  a  non-leper.  They  do  not  know  the 
length  of  time  of  incubation.  They  have  tried  to 
inoculate  all  sorts  of  animals  with  leprosy,  and  have 
failed. 

They  are  baffled  in  the  discovery  of  a  serum  where 
with  to  fight  the  disease.  And  in  all  their  work,  as 
yet,  they  have  found  no  clew,  no  cure.  Sometimes 
there  have  been  blazes  of  hope,  theories  of  causation 
and  much  heralded  cures,  but  every  time  the  darkness 
of  failure  quenched  the  flame.  A  doctor  insists  that 
the  cause  of  leprosy  is  a  long-continued  fish  diet,  and 
he  proves  his  theory  voluminously  till  a  physician 
from  the  highlands  of  India  demands  why  the  natives 
of  that  district  should  therefore  be  afflicted  by  leprosy 
when  they  have  never  eaten  fish  nor  all  the  generations 
of  their  fathers  before  them.  A  man  treats  a  leper 
with  a  certain  kind  of  oil  or  drug,  announces  a  cure, 
and  five,  ten,  or  forty  years  afterward  the  disease 
breaks  out  again.  It  is  this  trick  of  leprosy  lying 
dormant  in  the  body  for  indeterminate  periods  that  is 
responsible  for  many  alleged  cures.  But  this  much  is 
certain:  as  yet  there  has  been  no  authentic  case  of  a  cure. 

Leprosy  is  feebly  contagious  ^  but  how  is  it  contagious •? 


no      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


An  Austrian  physician  has  inoculated  himself  and  his 
assistants  with  leprosy  and  failed  to  catch  it.  But 
this  is  not  conclusive,  for  there  is  the  famous  case  of 
the  Hawaiian  murderer,  who  had  his  sentence  of  death 
commuted  to  life  imprisonment  on  his  agreeing  to  be 

inoculated  with  the  bacil 
lus  lepra.  Some  time 
after  inoculation,  leprosy 
made  its  appearance,  and 
the  man  died  a  leper  on 
Molokai.  Nor  was  this 
conclusive,  for  it  was  dis 
covered  that  at  the  time 
he  was  inoculated  several 
members  of  his  family 
were  already  suffering 
from  the  disease  on  Molo 
kai.  He  may  have  con 
tracted  the  disease  from 
them,  and  it  may  have 
been  well  along,  in  its 
mysterious  period  of  in 
cubation  at  the  time  he 
was  officially  inoculated. 
Then  there  is  the  case  of 
that  hero  of  the  Church, 
Father  Damien,  who  went  to  Molokai  a  clean  man 
and  died  a  leper.  There  have  been  many  theories  as 
to  how  he  contracted  leprosy,  but  nobody  knows. 
He  never  knew  himself.  But  every  chance  that  he 
ran  has  certainly  been  run  by  a  woman  at  present  liv 
ing  in  the  Settlement  ;  who  has  lived  there  many 
years  ;  who  has  had  five  leper  husbands,  and  had 


Molokai.     Father  Damien's  Grave. 


THE    LEPERS    OF    MOLOKAI          in 

children  by  them  ;    and  who  is  to-day,  as  she  always 
has  been,  free  of  the  disease. 

As  yet  no  light  has  been  shed  upon  the  mystery  of 
leprosy.  When  more  is  learned  about  the  disease,  a 
cure  for  it  may  be  expected.  Once  an  efficacious  serum 
is  discovered,  and  leprosy,  because  it  is  so  feebly  con 
tagious,  will  pass  away  swiftly  from  the  earth.  The 
battle  waged  with  it  will  be  short  and  sharp.  In  the 
meantime,  how  to  discover  that  serum,  or  some  other 
unguessed  weapon?  In  the  present  it  is  a  serious 
matter.  It  is  estimated  that  there  are  half  a  million 
lepers,  not  segregated,  in  India  alone.  Carnegie  libra 
ries,  Rockefeller  universities,  and  many  similar  bene 
factions  are  all  very  well;  but  one  cannot  help  thinking 
how  far  a  few  thousands  of  dollars  would  go,  say  in 
the  leper  Settlement  of  Molokai.  The  residents  there 
are  accidents  of  fate,  scapegoats  to  some  mysterious 
natural  law  of  which  man  knows  nothing,  isolated  for 
the  welfare  of  their  fellows  who  else  might  catch  the 
dread  disease,  even  as  they  have  caught  it,  nobody 
knows  how.  Not  for  their  sakes  merely,  but  for  the 
sake  of  future  generations,  a  few  thousands  of  dollars 
would  go  far  in  a  legitimate  and  scientific  search  after 
a  cure  for  leprosy,  for  a  serum,  or  for  some  undreamed 
discovery  that  will  enable  the  medical  world  to  exter 
minate  the  bacillus  leprcz.  There's  the  place  for  your 
money,  you  philanthropists. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

The   House  of  the  Sun 

THERE  are  hosts  of  people  who  journey  like  restless 
spirits  round  and  about  this  earth  in  search  of  seascapes 
and  landscapes  and  the  wonders  and  beauties  of  nature. 
They  overrun  Europe  in  armies  ;  they  can  be  met  in 
droves  and  herds  in  Florida  and  the  West  Indies,  at 
the  pyramids,  and  on  the  slopes  and  summits  of  the 
Canadian  and  American  Rockies  ;  but  in  the  House 
of  the  Sun  they  are  as  rare  as  live  and  wriggling  dino 
saurs.  Haleakala  is  the  Hawaiian  name  for  "  the  house 
of  the  sun."  It  is  a  noble  dwelling,  situated  on  the 
island  of  Maui ;  but  so  few  tourists  have  ever  peeped 
into  it,  much  less  entered  it,  that  their  number  may 
be  practically  reckoned  as  zero.  Yet  I  venture  to 
state  that  for  natural  beauty  and  wonder  the  nature- 
lover  may  see  dissimilar  things  as  great  as  Haleakala, 
but  no  greater,  while  he  will  never  see  elsewhere  any 
thing  more  beautiful  or  wonderful.  Honolulu  is  six 
days'  steaming  from  San  Francisco  ;  Maui  is  a  night's 
run  on  the  steamer  from  Honolulu  ;  and  six  hours 
more  if  he  is  in  a  hurry,  can  bring  the  traveller  to  Ko- 
likoli,  which  is  ten  thousand  and  thirty-two  feet  above 
the  sea  and  which  stands  hard  by  the  entrance  portal 
to  the  House  of  the  Sun.  Yet  the  tourist  comes  not, 
and  Haleakala  sleeps  on  in  lonely  and  unseen  grandeur. 

Not  being  tourists,  we  of  the  Snark  went  to  Halea 
kala.  On  the  slopes  of  that  monster  mountain  there 
is  a  cattle  ranch  of  some  fifty  thousand  acres,  where  we 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN         113 

spent  the  night  at  an  altitude  of  two  thousand  feet. 
The  next  morning  it  was  boots  and  saddles,  and  with 
cow-boys  and  packhorses  we  climbed  to  Ukulele,  a 
mountain  ranch-house,  the  altitude  of  which,  fifty-five 
hundred  feet,  gives  a  severely  temperate  climate,  com 
pelling  blankets  at  night  and  a  roaring  fireplace  in  the 
living-room.  Ukulele,  by  the  way,  is  the  Hawaiian  for 
"jumping  flea"  as  it  is  also  the  Hawaiian  for  a  certain 
musical  instrument  that  may  be  likened  to  a  young  gui 
tar.  It  is  my  opinion  that  the  mountain  ranch-house 
was  named  after  the  young  guitar.  We  were  not  in  a 
hurry,  and  we  spent  the  day  at  Ukulele,  learnedly  dis 
cussing  altitudes  and  barometers  and  shaking  our  par 
ticular  barometer  whenever  any  one's  argument  stood  in 
need  of  demonstration.  Our  barometer  was  the  most 
graciously  acquiescent  instrument  I  have  ever  seen. 
Also,  we  gathered  mountain  raspberries,  large  as  hen's 
eggs  and  larger,  gazed  up  the  pasture-covered  lava 
slopes  to  the  summit  of  Haleakala,  forty-five  hundred 
feet  above  us,  and  looked  down  upon  a  mighty  battle 
of  the  clouds  that  was  being  fought  beneath  us,  our 
selves  in  the  bright  sunshine. 

Every  day  and  every  day  this  unending  battle  goes 
on.  Ukiukiu  is  the  name  of  the  trade-wind  that  comes 
raging  down  out  of  the  northeast  and  hurls  itself  upon 
Haleakala.  Now  Haleakala  is  so  bulky  and  tall  that 
it  turns  the  northeast  trade-wind  aside  on  either  hand, 
so  that  in  the  lee  of  Haleakala  no  trade-wind  blows  at 
all  On  the  contrary,  the  wind  blows  in  the  counter 
direction,  in  the  teeth  of  the  northeast  trade.  This 
wind  is  called  Naulu.  And  day  and  night  and  always 
Ukiukiu  and  Naulu  strive  with  each  other,  advancing, 
retreating,  flanking,  curving,  curling,  and  turning  and 


ii4      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN         115 

twisting,  the  conflict  made  visible  by  the  cloud-masses 
plucked  from  the  heavens  and  hurled  back  and  forth 
in  squadrons,  battalions,  armies,  and  great  mountain 
ranges.  Once  in  a  while,  Ukiukiu,  in  mighty  gusts, 
flings  immense  cloud-masses  clear  over  the  summit  of 
Haleakala ;  whereupon  Naulu  craftily  captures  them, 
lines  them  up  in  new  battle-formation,  and  with  them 
smites  back  at  his  ancient  and  eternal  antagonist. 
Then  Ukiukiu  sends  a  great  cloud-army  around  the 
eastern  side  of  the  mountain.  It  is  a  flanking  move 
ment,  well  executed.  But  Naulu,  from  his  lair  on  the 
leeward  side,  gathers  the  flanking  army  in,  pulling  and 
twisting  and  dragging  it,  hammering  it  into  shape,  and 
sends  it  charging  back  against  Ukiukiu  around  the 
western  side  of  the  mountain.  And  all  the  while, 
above  and  below  the  main  battle-field,  high  up  the 
slopes  toward  the  sea,  Ukiukiu  and  Naulu  are  contin 
ually  sending  out  little  wisps  of  cloud,  in  ragged  skir 
mish  line,  that  creep  and  crawl  over  the  ground,  among 
the  trees  and  through  the  canyons,  and  that  spring 
upon  and  capture  one  another  in  sudden  ambuscades 
and  sorties.  And  sometimes  Ukiukiu  or  Naulu, 
abruptly  sending  out  a  heavy  charging  column,  cap 
tures  the  ragged  little  skirmishers  or  drives  them 
skyward,  turning  over  and  over,  in  vertical  whirls, 
thousands  of  feet  in  the  air. 

But  it  is  on  the  western  slopes  of  Haleakala  that  the 
main  battle  goes  on.  Here  Naulu  masses  his  heaviest 
formations  and  wins  his  greatest  victories.  Ukiukiu 
grows  weak  toward  late  afternoon,  which  is  the  way  of 
all  trade-winds,  and  is  driven  backward  by  Naulu. 
Naulu's  generalship  is  excellent.  All  day  he  has  been 
gathering  and  packing  away  immense  reserves.  As 


n6      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE   SNARK 

the  afternoon  draws  on,  he  welds  them  into  a  solid 
column,  sharp-pointed,  miles  in  length,  a  mile  in 
width,  and  hundreds  of  feet  thick.  This  column  he 
slowly  thrusts  forward  into  the  broad  battle-front  of 
Ukiukiu,  and  slowly  and  surely  Ukiukiu,  weakening 
fast,  is  split  asunder.  But  it  is  not  all  bloodless.  At 
times  Ukiukiu  struggles  wildly,  and  with  fresh  acces 
sions  of  strength  from  the  limitless  northeast,  smashes 
away  half  a  mile  at  a  time  of  Naulu's  column  and 
sweeps  it  off  and  away  toward  West  Maui.  Some 
times,  when  the  two  charging  armies  meet  end-on,  a 
tremendous  perpendicular  whirl  results,  the  cloud- 
masses,  locked  together,  mounting  thousands  of  feet 
into  the  air  and  turning  over  and  over.  A  favorite 
device  of  Ukiukiu  is  to  send  a  low,  squat  formation, 
densely  packed,  forward  along  the  ground  and  under 
Naulu.  When  Ukiukiu  is  under,  he  proceeds  to  buck. 
Naulu's  mighty  middle  gives  to  the  blow  and  bends 
upward,  but  usually  he  turns  the  attacking  column  back 
upon  itself  and  sets  it  milling.  And  all  the  while  the 
ragged  little  skirmishers,  stray  and  detached,  sneak 
through  the  trees  and  canyons,  crawl  along  and  through 
the  grass,  and  surprise  one  another  with  unexpected 
leaps  and  rushes ;  while  above,  far  above,  serene  and 
lonely  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  Haleakala  looks 
down  upon  the  conflict.  And  so,  the  night.  But  in 
the  morning,  after  the  fashion  of  trade-winds,  Ukiukiu 
gathers  strength  and  sends  the  hosts  of  Naulu  rolling 
back  in  confusion  and  rout.  And  one  day  is  like 
another  day  in  the  battle  of  the  clouds,  where  Ukiukiu 
and  Naulu  strive  eternally  on  the  slopes  of  Haleakala. 
Again  in  the  morning,  it  was  boots  and  saddles, 
cow-boys  and  packhorses,  and  the  climb  to  the  top  be- 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    SUN         117 

gan.  One  packhorse  carried  twenty  gallons  of  water, 
slung  in  five-gallon  bags  on  either  side ;  for  water  is 
precious  and  rare  in  the  crater  itself,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  several  miles  to  the  north  and  east  of  the  crater- 
rim  more  rain  comes  down  than  in  any  other  place  in 
the  world.  The  way  led  upward  across  countless  lava 
flows,  without  regard  for  trails,  and  never  have  I  seen 
horses  with  such  perfect  footing  as  that  of  the  thirteen 
that  composed  our  outfit.  They  climbed  or  dropped 
down  perpendicular  places  with  the  sureness  and  cool 
ness  of  mountain  goats,  and  never  a  horse  fell  or 
balked. 

There  is  a  familiar  and  strange  illusion  experienced 
by  all  who  climb  isolated  mountains.  The  higher  one 
climbs,  the  more  of  the  earth's  surface  becomes  visible, 
and  the  effect  of  this  is  that  the  horizon  seems  up-hill 
from  the  observer.  This  illusion  is  especially  notable 
on  Haleakala,  for  the  old  volcano  rises  directly  from 
the  sea,  without  buttresses  or  connecting  ranges.  In 
consequence,  as  fast  as  we  climbed  up  the  grim  slope 
of  Haleakala,  still  faster  did  Haleakala,  ourselves,  and 
all  about  us,  sink  down  into  the  centre  of  what  appeared 
a  profound  abyss.  Everywhere,  far  above  us,  towered 
the  horizon.  The  ocean  sloped  down  from  the  hori 
zon  to  us.  The  higher  we  climbed,  the  deeper  did  we 
seem  to  sink  down,  the  farther  above  us  shone  the 
horizon,  and  the  steeper  pitched  the  grade  up  to  that 
horizontal  line  where  sky  and  ocean  met.  It  was  weird 
and  unreal,  and  vagrant  thoughts  of  Simm's  Hole  and 
of  the  volcano  through  which  Jules  Verne  journeyed 
to  the  centre  of  the  earth  flitted  through  one's  mind. 

And  then,  when  at  last  we  reached  the  summit  of 
that  monster  mountain,  which  summit  was  like  the 


n8      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN         119 

bottom  of  an  inverted  cone  situated  in  the  centre  of  an 
awful  cosmic  pit,  we  found  that  we  were  at  neither 
top  nor  bottom.  Far  above  us  was  the  heaven-tower 
ing  horizon,  and  far  beneath  us,  where  the  top  of  the 
mountain  should  have  been,  was  a  deeper  deep,  the 
great  crater,  the  House  of  the  Sun.  Twenty-three 
miles  around  stretched  the  dizzy  walls  of  the  crater. 
We  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  nearly  vertical  western 
wall,  and  the  floor  of  the  crater  lay  nearly  half  a  mile 
beneath.  This  floor,  broken  by  lava-flows  and  cinder- 
cones,  was  as  red  and  fresh  and  uneroded  as  if  it  were 
but  yesterday  that  the  fires  went  out.  The  cinder- 
cones,  the  smallest  over  four  hundred  feet  in  height 
and  the  largest  over  nine  hundred,  seemed  no  more 
than  puny  little  sand-hills,  so  mighty  was  the  magni 
tude  of  the  setting.  Two  gaps,  thousands  of  feet  deep, 
broke  the  rim  of  the  crater,  and  through  these  Ukiukiu 
vainly  strove  to  drive  his  fleecy  herds  of  trade-wind 
clouds.  As  fast  as  they  advanced  through  the  gaps,  the 
heat  of  the  crater  dissipated  them  into  thin  air,  and 
though  they  advanced  always,  they  got  nowhere. 

It  was  a  scene  of  vast  bleakness  and  desolation,  stern, 
forbidding,  fascinating.  We  gazed  down  upon  a  place 
of  fire  and  earthquake.  The  tie-ribs  of  earth  lay  bare 
before  us.  It  was  a  workshop  of  nature  still  cluttered 
with  the  raw  beginnings  of  world-making.  Here  and 
there  great  dikes  of  primordial  rock  had  thrust  them 
selves  up  from  the  bowels  of  earth,  straight  through 
the  molten  surface-ferment  that  had  evidently  cooled 
only  the  other  day.  It  was  all  unreal  and  unbeliev 
able.  Looking  upward,  far  above  us  (in  reality  be 
neath  us)  floated  the  cloud-battle  of  Ukiukiu  and 
Naulu.  And  higher  up  the  slope  of  the  seeming 


120      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

abyss,  above  the  cloud-battle,  in  the  air  and  sky,  hung 
the  islands  of  Lanai  and  Molokai.  Across  the  crater, 
to  the  southeast,  still  apparently  looking  upward,  we 
saw  ascending,  first,  the  turquoise  sea,  then  the  white 
surf-line  of  the  shore  of  Hawaii ;  above  that  the  belt 
of  trade-clouds,  and  next,  eighty  miles  away,  rearing 
their  stupendous  bulks  out  of  the  azure  sky,  tipped 
with  snow,  wreathed  with  cloud,  trembling  like  a 
mirage,  the  peaks  of  Mauna  Kea  and  Mauna  Loa 
hung  poised  on  the  wall  of  heaven. 

It  is  told  that  long  ago,  one  Maui,  the  son  of  Hina, 
lived  on  what  is  now  known  as  West  Maui.  His 
mother,  Hina,  employed  her  time  in  the  making  of 
kapas.  She  must  have  made  them  at  night,  for  her 
days  were  occupied  in  trying  to  dry  the  kapas.  Each 
morning,  and  all  morning,  she  toiled  at  spreading  them 
out  in  the  sun.  But  no  sooner  were  they  out,  than  she 
began  taking  them  in,  in  order  to  have  them  all  under 
shelter  for  the  night.  For  know  that  the  days  were 
shorter  then  than  now.  Maui  watched  his  mother's 
futile  toil  and  felt  sorry  for  her.  He  decided  to  do 
something  —  oh,  no,  not  to  help  her  hang  out  and  take 
in  the  kapas.  He  was  too  clever  for  that.  His  idea 
was  to  make  the  sun  go  slower.  Perhaps  he  was  the 
first  Hawaiian  astronomer.  At  any  rate,  he  took  a 
series  of  observations  of  the  sun  from  various  parts  of 
the  island.  His  conclusion  was  that  the  sun's  path 
was  directly  across  Haleakala.  Unlike  Joshua,  he 
stood  in  no  need  of  divine  assistance.  He  gathered  a 
huge  quantity  of  cocoanuts,  from  the  fiber  of  which  he 
braided  a  stout  cord,  and  in  one  end  of  which  he  made 
a  noose,  even  as  the  cow-boys  of  Haleakala  do  to  this 
day.  Next  he  climbed  into  the  House  of  the  Sun  and 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   SUN          121 


122      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

laid  in  wait.  When  the  sun  came  tearing  along  the 
path,  bent  on  completing  its  journey  in  the  shortest 
time  possible,  the  valiant  youth  threw  his  lariat  around 
one  of  the  sun's  largest  and  strongest  beams.  He 
made  the  sun  slow  down  some ;  also,  he  broke  the 
beam  short  off.  And  he  kept  on  roping  and  breaking 
off  beams  till  the  sun  said  it  was  willing  to.  listen  to 
reason.  Maui  set  forth  his  terms  of  peace,  which  the 
sun  accepted,  agreeing  to  go  more  slowly  thereafter. 
Wherefore  Hina  had  ample  time  in  which  to  dry  her 
kapasy  and  the  days  are  longer  than  they  used  to  be, 
which  last  is  quite  in  accord  with  the  teachings  of  mod 
ern  astronomy. 

We  had  a  lunch  of  jerked  beef  and  hard  poi  in  a 
stone  corral,  used  of  old  time  for  the  night-impounding 
of  cattle  being  driven  across  the  island.  Then  we 
skirted  the  rim  for  half  a  mile  and  began  the  descent 
into  the  crater.  Twenty-five  hundred  feet  beneath  lay 
the  floor,  and  down  a  steep  slope  of  loose  volcanic  cin 
ders  we  dropped,  the  sure-footed  horses  slipping  and 
sliding,  but  always  keeping  their  feet.  The  black  sur 
face  of  the  cinders,  when  broken  by  the  horses'  hoofs, 
turned  to  a  yellow  ochre  dust,  virulent  in  appearance 
and  acid  of  taste,  that  arose  in  clouds.  There  was  a 
gallop  across  a  level  stretch  to  the  mouth  of  a  con 
venient  blow-hole,  and  then  the  descent  continued  in 
clouds  of  volcanic  dust,  winding  in  and  out  among 
cinder-cones,  brick-red,  old  rose,  and  purplish  black 
of  color.  Above  us,  higher  and  higher,  towered  the 
crater-walls,  while  we  journeyed  on  across  innumerable 
lava-flows,  turning  and  twisting  a  devious  way  among 
the  adamantine  billows  of  a  petrified  sea.  Saw-toothed 
waves  of  lava  vexed  the  surface  of  this  weird  ocean, 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN         123 

while  on  either  hand  arose  jagged  crests  and  spiracles 
of  fantastic  shape.  Our  way  led  on  past  a  bottomless 
pit  and  along  and  over  the  main  stream  of  the  latest 
lava-flow  for  seven  miles. 

At  the  lower  end  of  the  crater  was  our  camping 
spot,  in  a  small  grove  of  olapa  and  kolea  trees,  tucked 
away  in  a  corner  of  the  crater  at  the  base  of  walls  that 
rose  perpendicularly  fifteen  hundred  feet.  Here  was 


The  Cinder  Cones,  the  Smallest  over  Four  Hundred  Feet  in  Height,  the 
Largest  over  Nine  Hundred,  on  the  Floor  of  the  Crater,  nearly  Half 
a  Mile  Beneath. 

pasturage  for  the  horses,  but  no  water,  and  first  we 
turned  aside  and  picked  our  way  across  a  mile  of  lava 
to  a  known  water-hole  in  a  crevice  in  the  crater-wall. 
The  water-hole  was  empty.  But  on  climbing  fifty  feet 
up  the  crevice,  a  pool  was  found  containing  half  a  dozen 
barrels  of  water.  A  pail  was  carried  up,  and  soon  a 
steady  stream  of  the  precious  liquid  was  running  down 
the  rock  and  filling  the  lower  pool,  while  the  cow-boys 
below  were  busy  fighting  the  horses  back,  for  there 
was  room  for  one  only  to  drink  at  a  time.  Then  it 
was  on  to  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  wall,  up  which  herds 
of  wild  goats  scrambled  and  blatted,  while  the  tent 
arose  to  the  sound  of  rifle-firing.  Jerked  beef,  hard 


124      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

poiy  and  broiled  kid  was  the  menu.  Over  the  crest  of 
the  crater,  just  above  our  heads,  rolled  a  sea  of  clouds, 
driven  on  by  Ukiukiu.  Though  this  sea  rolled  over 
the  crest  unceasingly,  it  never  blotted  out  nor  dimmed 
the  moon,  for  the  he.at  of  the  crater  dissolved  the  clouds 
as  fast  as  they  rolled  in.  Through  the  moonlight,  at 
tracted  by  the  camp-fire,  came  the  crater  cattle  to  peer 
and  challenge.  They  were  rolling  fat,  though  they 
rarely  drank  water,  the  morning  dew  on  the  grass  tak 
ing  its  place.  It  was  because  of  this  dew  that  the  tent 
made  a  welcome  bedchamber,  and  we  fell  asleep  to  the 
chanting  of  hulas  by  the  unwearied  Hawaiian  cow-boys, 
in  whose  veins,  no  doubt,  ran  the  blood  of  Maui,  their 
valiant  forebear. 

The  camera  cannot  do  justice  to  the  House  of  the 
Sun.  The  sublimated  chemistry  of  photography  may 
not  lie,  but  it  certainly  does  not  tell  all  the  truth.  The 
Koolau  Gap  is  faithfully  reproduced,  just  as  it  impinged 
on  the  retina  of  the  camera,  yet  in  the  resulting  picture 
the  gigantic  scale  of  things  is  missing.  Those  walls 
that  seem  several  hundred  feet  in  height  are  almost  as 
many  thousand  ;  that  entering  wedge  of  cloud  is  a  mile 
and  a  half  wide  in  the  gap  itself,  while  beyond  the  gap 
it  is  a  veritable  ocean ;  and  that  foreground  of  cinder- 
cone  and  volcanic  ash,  mushy  and  colorless  in  appear 
ance,  is  in  truth  gorgeous-hued  in  brick-red,  terra-cotta, 
rose,  yellow  ochre,  and  purplish  black.  Also,  words 
are  a  vain  thing  and  drive  to  despair.  To  say  that  a 
crater-wall  is  two  thousand  feet  high  is  to  say  just  pre 
cisely  that  it  is  two  thousand  feet  high  ;  but  there  is  a 
vast  deal  more  to  that  crater-wall  than  a  mere  statistic. 
The  sun  is  ninety-three  millions  of  miles  distant,  but 
to  mortal  conception  the  adjoining  county  is  farther 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    SUN 


125 


away.  This  frailty  of  the  human  brain  is  hard  on  the 
sun.  It  is  likewise  hard  on  the  House  of  the  Sun. 
Haleakala  has  a  message  of  beauty  and  wonder  for  the 
human  soul  that  cannot  be  delivered  by  proxy.  Koli- 
koli  is  six  hours  from  Kahului ;  Kahului  is  a  night's 


A  Lope  across  a  Level  Stretch  to  the  Mouth  of  a  Convenient  Blow-hole. 

run  from  Honolulu;   Honolulu  is  six  days  from  San 
Francisco  ;  and  there  you  are. 

We  climbed  the  crater-walls,  put  the  horses  over 
impossible  places,  rolled  stones,  and  shot  wild  goats. 
I  did  not  get  any  goats.  I  was  too  busy  rolling 
stones.  One  spot  in  particular  I  remember,  where  we 
started  a  stone  the  size  of  a  horse.  It  began  the 
descent  easy  enough,  rolling  over,  wobbling,  and 
threatening  to  stop  ;  but  in  a  few  minutes  it  was  soar 
ing  through  the  air  two  hundred  feet  at  a  jump.  It 
grew  rapidly  smaller  until  it  struck  a  slight  slope  of 


126      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

volcanic  sand,  over  which  it  darted  like  a  startled 
jackrabbit,  kicking  up  behind  it  a  tiny  trail  of  yellow 
dust.  Stone  and  dust  diminished  in  size,  until  some 
of  the  party  said  the  stone  had  stopped.  That  was 
because  they  could  not  see  it  any  longer.  It  had 
vanished  into  the  distance  beyond  their  ken.  Others 
saw  it  rolling  farther  on  —  I  know  I  did  ;  and  it  is  my 
firm  conviction  that  that  stone  is  still  rolling. 

Our  last  day  in  the  crater,  Ukiukiu  gave  us  a  taste 
of  his  strength.  He  smashed  Naulu  back  all  along 
the  line,  filled  the  House  of  the  Sun  to  overflowing 
with  clouds,  and  drowned  us  out.  Our  rain-gauge 
was  a  pint  cup  under  a  tiny  hole  in  the  tent.  That 
last  night  of  storm  and  rain  filled  the  cup,  and  there 
was  no  way  of  measuring  the  water  that  spilled  over 
into  the  blankets.  With  the  rain-gauge  out  of  business 
there  was  no  longer  any  reason  for  remaining ;  so  we 
broke  camp  in  the  wet-gray  of  dawn,  and  plunged 
eastward  across  the  lava  to  the  Kaupo  Gap.  East 
Maui  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  vast  lava  stream 
that  flowed  long  ago  through  the  Kaupo  Gap ;  and 
down  this  stream  we  picked  our  way  from  an  altitude 
of  six  thousand  five  hundred  feet  to  the  sea.  This 
was  a  day's  work  in  itself  for  the  horses ;  but  never 
were  there  such  horses.  Safe  in  the  bad  places,  never 
rushing,  never  losing  their  heads,  as  soon  as  they 
found  a  trail  wide  and  smooth  enough  to  run  on,  they 
ran.  There  was  no  stopping  them  until  the  trail  be 
came  bad  again,  and  then  they  stopped  of  themselves. 
Continuously,  for  days,  they  had  performed  the  hardest 
kind  of  work,  and  fed  most  of  the  time  on  grass  foraged 
by  themselves  at  night  while  we  slept,  and  yet  that  day 
they  covered  twenty-eight  leg-breaking  miles  and  gal- 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN         127 

loped  into  Hana  like  a  bunch  of  colts.  Also,  there 
were  several  of  them,  reared  in  the  dry  region  on  the 
leeward  side  of  Haleakala,  that  had  never  worn  shoes 
in  all  their  lives.  Day  after  day,  and  all  day  long, 
unshod,  they  had  travelled  over  the  sharp  lava,  with 
the  extra  weight  of  a  man  on  their  backs,  and  their 
hoofs  were  in  better  condition  than  those  of  the  shod 
horses. 

The   scenery   between   Vieiras's    (where   the  Kaupo 
Gap  empties  into  the  sea)  and  Hana,  which  we  covered 


Our  Way  led  past  a  Bottomless  Pit. 

in  half  a  day,  is  well  worth  a  week  or  a  month ;  but, 
wildly  beautiful  as  it  is,  it  becomes  pale  and  small  in 
comparison  with  the  wonderland  that  lies  beyond  the 
rubber  plantations  between  Hana  and  the  Honomanu 
Gulch.  Two  days  were  required  to  cover  this  marvel 
lous  stretch,  which  lies  on  the  windward  side  of  Halea 
kala.  The  people  who  dwell  there  call  it  the  "  ditch 
country,"  an  unprepossessing  name,  but  it  has  no 
other.  Nobody  else  ever  comes  there.  Nobody  else 
knows  anything  about  it.  With  the  exception  of  a 
handful  of  men,  whom  business  has  brought  there, 
nobody  has  heard  of  the  ditch  country  of  Maui.  Now 
a  ditch  is  a  ditch,  assumably  muddy,  and  usually  travers- 


128      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

ing  uninteresting  and  monotonous  landscapes.  But  the 
Nahiku  Ditch  is  not  an  ordinary  ditch.  The  windward 
side  of  Haleakala  is  serried  by  a  thousand  precipitous 
gorges,  down  which  rush  as  many  torrents,  each  tor 
rent  of  which  achieves  a  score  of  cascades  and  water 
falls  before  it  reaches  the  sea.  More  rain  comes  down 
here  than  in  any  other  region  in  the  world.  In  1904  the 
year's  downpour  was  four  hundred  and  twenty  inches. 
Water  means  sugar,  and  sugar  is  the  backbone  of  the 
territory  of  Hawaii,  wherefore  the  Nahiku  Ditch, 
which  is  not  a  ditch,  but  a  chain  of  tunnels.  The  water 
travels  underground,  appearing  only1  at  intervals  to 
leap  a  gorge,  travelling  high  in  the  air  on  a  giddy 
flume  and  plunging  into  and  through  the  opposing 
mountain.  This  magnificent  waterway  is  called  a 
"  ditch,"  and  with  equal  appropriateness  can  Cleopatra's 
barge  be  called  a  box-car. 

There  are  no  carnage  roads  through  the  ditch  coun 
try,  and  before  the  ditch  was  built,  or  bored,  rather, 
there  was  no  horse-trail.  Hundreds  of  inches  of  rain 
annually,  on  fertile  soil,  under  a  tropic  sun,  means  a 
steaming  jungle  of  vegetation.  A  man,  on  foot,  cut 
ting  his  way  through,  might  advance  a  mile  a  day,  but 
at  the  end  of  a  week  he  would  be  a  wreck,  and  he 
would  have  to  crawl  hastily  back  if  he  wanted  to  get 
out  before  the  vegetation  overran  the  passage  way  he 
had  cut.  O'Shaughnessy  was  the  daring  engineer  who 
conquered  the  jungle  and  the  gorges,  ran  the  ditch, 
and  made  the  'horse-trail.  He  built  enduringly,  in 
concrete  and  masonry,  and  made  one  of  the  most  re 
markable  water-farms  in  the  world.  Every  little  runlet 
and  dribble  is  harvested  and  conveyed  by  subterranean 
channels  to  the  main  ditch.  But  so  heavily  does  it 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN 


129 


rain  at  times,  that  countless  spillways  let  the  surplus 
escape  to  the  sea. 

The  horse-trail  is  not  very  wide.  Like  the  engineer 
who  built  it,  it  dares  anything.  Where  the  ditch 
plunges  through  the  mountain,  it  climbs  over ;  and 
where  the  ditch  leaps  a  gorge  on  a  flume,  the  horse- 


That  Entering  Wedge  of  Cloud  is  a  Mile  and  a  Half  Wide  in  the  Gap 
itself,  while  beyond  the  Gap  it  is  a  Veritable  Ocean. 

trail  takes  advantage  of  the  ditch  and  crosses  on  top 
of  the  flume.  That  careless  trail  thinks  nothing  of 
travelling  up  or  down  the  faces  of  precipices.  It  gouges 
its  narrow  way  out  of  the  wall,  dodging  around  water 
falls  or  passing  under  them  where  they  thunder  down 
in  white  fury ;  while  straight  overhead  the  wall  rises 
hundreds  of  feet,  and  straight  beneath  it  sinks  a 
thousand.  And  those  marvellous  mountain  horses  are 
as  unconcerned  as  the  trail.  They  fox-trot  along  it  as 
a  matter  of  course,  though  the  footing  is  slippery  with 


ijo      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

rain,  and  they  will  gallop  with  their  hind  feet  slipping 
over  the  edge  if  you  let  them.  I  advise  only  those 
with  steady  nerves  and  cool  heads  to  tackle  the  Nahiku 
Ditch  trail.  One  of  our  cow-boys  was  noted  as  the 
strongest  and  bravest  on  the  big  ranch.  He  had 
ridden  mountain  horses  all  his  life  on^  the  rugged 
western  slopes  of  Haleakala.  He  was  first  in  the 
horse-breaking ;  and  when  the  others  hung  back,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  he  would  go  in  to  meet  a  wild  bull  in 
the  cattle-pen.  He  had  a  reputation.  But  he  had 
never  ridden  over  the  Nahiku  Ditch.  It  was  there 
he  lost  his  reputation.  When  he  faced  the  first  flume, 
spanning  a  hair-raising  gorge,  narrow,  without  railings, 
with  a  bellowing  waterfall  above,  another  below,  and 
directly  beneath  a  wild  cascade,  the  air  filled  with  driving 
spray  and  rocking  to  the  clamor  and  rush  of  sound  and 
motion — well,  that  cow-boy  dismounted  from  his  horse, 
explained  briefly  that  he  had  a  wife  and  two  children, 
and  crossed  over  on  foot,  leading  the  horse  behind  him. 
The  only  relief  from  the  flumes  was  the  precipices  ; 
and  the  only  relief  from  the  precipices  was  the  flumes, 
except  where  the  ditch  was  far  under  ground,  in  which 
case  we  crossed  one  horse  and  rider  at  a  time,  on  primi 
tive  log-bridges  that  swayed  and  teetered  and  threat 
ened  to  carry  away.  I  confess  that  at  first  I  rode  such 
places  with  my  feet  loose  in  the  stirrups,  and  that  on  the 
sheer  walls  I  saw  to  it,  by  a  definite,  conscious  act  of 
will,  that  the  foot  in  the  outside  stirrup,  overhanging 
the  thousand  feet  of  fall,  was  exceedingly  loose.  I  say 
"  at  first "  ;  for,  as  in  the  crater  itself  we  quickly  lost 
our  conception  of  magnitude,  so,  on  the  Nahiku  Ditch, 
we  quickly  lost  our  apprehension  of  depth.  The 
ceaseless  iteration  of  height  and  depth  produced  a  state 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    SUN         131 

of  consciousness  in  which  height  and  depth  were  ac 
cepted  as  the  ordinary  conditions  of  existence;  and 
from  the  horse's  back  to  look  sheer  down  four  hundred 
or  five  hundred  feet  became  quite  commonplace  and 
non-productive  of  thrills.  And  as  carelessly  as  the 
trail  and  the  horses,  we  swung  along  the  dizzy  heights 
and  ducked  around  or  through  the  waterfalls. 

And  such  a  ride  !   Falling  water  was   everywhere. 
We   rode    above   the   clouds,    under   the   clouds,  and 


And  through  the  Gap  Ukiukiu  vainly   strove   to    drive    his    Fleecy   Herds 
of  Trade-wind  Clouds. 

through  the  clouds  !  and  every  now  and  then  a  shaft 
of  sunshine  penetrated  like  a  search-light  to  the  depths 
yawning  beneath  us,  or  flashed  upon  some  pinnacle  of 
the  crater-rim  thousands  of  feet  above.  At  every  turn 
of  the  trail  a  waterfall  or  a  dozen  waterfalls,  leaping 
hundreds  of  feet  through  the  air,  burst  upon  our  vision. 
At  our  first  night's  camp,  in  the  Keanae  Gulch,  we 
counted  thirty-two  waterfalls  from  a  single  viewpoint. 
The  vegetation  ran  riot  over  that  wild  land.  There 
were  forests  of  koa  and  kolea  trees,  and  candlenut  trees; 
and  then  there  were  the  trees  called  ohia-ai,  which  bore 
red  mountain  apples,  mellow  and  juicy  and  most  excel 
lent  to  eat.  Wild  bananas  grew  everywhere,  clinging 


132      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

to  the  sides  of  the  gorges,  and,  overborne  by  their  great 
bunches  of  ripe  fruit,  falling  across  the  trail  and  block 
ing  the  way.  And  over  the  forest  surged  a  sea  of  green 
life,  the  climbers  of  a  thousand  varieties,  some  that 
floated  airily,  in  lacelike  filaments,  from  the  tallest 
branches  ;  others  that  coiled  and  wound  about  the  trees 
like  huge  serpents ;  and  one,  the  ei-ei,  that  was  for  all 
the  world  like  a  climbing  palm,  swinging  on  a  thick  stem 
from  branch  to  branch  and  tree  to  tree  and  throttling 
the  supports  whereby  it  climbed.  Through  the  sea  of 
green,  lofty  tree-ferns  thrust  their  great  delicate  jronds^ 
and  the  lehua  flaunted  its  scarlet  blossoms.  Under 
neath  the  climbers,  in  no  less  profusion,  grew  the  warm- 
colored,  strangely-marked  plants  that  in  the  United 
States  one  is  accustomed  to  seeing  preciously  conserved 
in  hot-houses.  In  fact,  the  ditch  country  of  Maui  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  huge  conservatory.  Every 
familiar  variety  of  fern  flourishes,  and  more  varieties 
that  are  unfamiliar,  from  the  tiniest  maidenhair  to  the 
gross  and  voracious  staghorn,  the  latter  the  terror  of  the 
woodsmen,  interlacing  with  itself  in  tangled  masses  five 
or  six  feet  deep  and  covering  acres. 

Never  was  there  such  a  ride.  For  two  days  it  lasted, 
when  we  emerged  into  rolling  country,  and,  along  an 
actual  wagon-road,  came  home  to  the  ranch  at  a  gallop. 
I  know  it  was  cruel  to  gallop  the  horses  after  such  a 
long,  hard  journey  ;  but  we  blistered  our  hands  in  vain 
effort  to  hold  them  in.  That's  the  sort  of  horses  they 
grow  on  Haleakala.  At  the  ranch  there  was  great  fes 
tival  of  cattle-driving,  branding,  and  horse-breaking. 
Overhead  Ukiukiu  and  Naulu  battled  valiantly,  and  far 
above,  in  the  sunshine,  towered  the  mighty  summit  of 
Haleakala. 


CHAPTER    IX 

A  Pacific  Traverse 

Sandwich  Islands  to  Tahiti.  —  There  is  great  difficulty 
in  making  this  passage  across  the  trades.  The  whalers 
and  all  others  speak  with  great  doubt  of  fetching  Tahiti 
from  the  Sandwich  Islands.  Capt.  Bruce  says  that  a  ves 
sel  should  keep  to  the  northward  until  she  gets  a  start  of 
wind  before  bearing  for  her  destination.  In  his  passage 
between  them  in  November,,  1837,  he  had  no  variables 
near  the  line  in  coming  south,  and  never  could  make  easting 
on  either  tack,  though  he  endeavored  by  every  means  to 
do  so. 

So  says  the  sailing  directions  for  the  South  Pacific 
Ocean  ;  and  that  is  all  it  says.  There  is  not  a  word 
more  to  help  the  weary  voyager  in  making  this  long 
traverse  —  nor  is  there  any  word  at  ail  concerning  the 
passage  from  Hawaii  to  the  Marquesas,  which  lie  some 
eight  hundred  miles  to  the  northeast  of  Tahiti  and 
which  are  the  more  difficult  to  reach  by  just  that  much. 
The  reason  for  the  lack  of  directions  is,  I  imagine,  that 
no  voyager  is  supposed  to  make  himself  weary  by  at 
tempting  so  impossible  a  traverse.  But  the  impossible 
did  not  deter  the  Snark,  —  principally  because  of  the 
fact  that  we  did  not  read  that  particular  little  paragraph 
in  the  sailing  directions  until  after  we  had  started»  We 
sailed  from  Hilo,  Hawaii,  on  October  y,  and  arrived 
at  Nuka-hiva,  in  the  Marquesas,  on  December  6.  The 
distance  was  two  thousand  miles  as  the  crow  flies,  while 

133 


ij4      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

we  actually  travelled  at  least  four  thousand  miles  to  ac 
complish  it,  thus  proving  for  once  and  forever  that  the 
shortest  distance  between  two  points  is  not  always  a 
straight  line.  Had  we  headed  directly  for  the  Mar 
quesas,  we  might  have  travelled  five  or  six  thousand 
miles. 

Upon  one  thing  we  were  resolved  :  we  would  not 
cross  the  Line  west  of  130°  west  longitude.  For  here 
was  the  problem.  To  cross  the  Line  to  the  west  of 
that  point,  if  the  southeast  trades  were  well  around  to 
the  southeast,  would  throw  us  so  far  to  leeward  of  the 
Marquesas  that  a  head-beat  would  be  maddeningly 
impossible.  Also,  we  had  to  remember- the  equatorial 
current,  which  moves  west  at  a  rate  of  anywhere  from 
twelve  to  seventy-five  miles  a  day.  A  pretty  pickle, 
indeed,  to  be  to  leeward  of  our  destination  with  such  a 
current  in  our  teeth.  No  ;  not  a  minute,  nor  a  second, 
west  of  130°  west  longitude  would  we  cross  the  Line. 
But  since  the  southeast  trades  were  to  be  expected  five 
or  six  degrees  north  of  the  Line  (which,  if  they  were 
well  around  to  the  southeast  or  south-southeast,  would 
necessitate  our  sliding  off  toward  south-southwest),  we 
should  have  to  hold  to  the  eastward,  north  of  the  Line, 
and  north  of  the  southeast  trades,  until  we  gained  at 
least  128°  west  longitude. 

I  have  forgotten  to  mention  that  the  seventy-horse 
power  gasolene  engine,  as  usual,  was  not  working,  and 
that  we  could  depend  upon  wind  alone.  Neither  was 
the  launch  engine  working.  And  while  I  am  about  it, 
I  may  as  well  confess  that  the  five-horse-power,  which 
ran  the  lights,  fans,  and  pumps,  was  also  on  the  sick- 
list.  A  striking  title  for  a  book  haunts  me,  waking  and 
sleeping.  I  should  like  to  write  that  book  some  day 


A   PACIFIC   TRAVERSE 


and  to  call  it  "  Around  the  World  with  Three  Gasolene 
Engines  and  a  Wife."  But  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not 
write  it,  for  fear  of  hurting  the  feelings  of  some  of  the 
young  gentlemen  of  San  Francisco,  Honolulu,  and  Hilo, 
who  learned  their  trades  at  the  expense  of  the  Snark's 
engines. 

It  looked  easy  on  paper.  Here  was  Hilo  and 
there  was  our  objective,  128°  west  longitude.  With 
the  northeast  trade 
blowing  we  could 
travel  a  straight 
line  between  the 
two  points,  and 
even  slack  our 
sheets  off  a  goodly 
bit.  But  one  of 
the  chief  troubles 
with  the  trades  is 
that  one  never 
knows  just  where  he  will  pick  them  up  and  just  in 
what  direction  they  will  be  blowing.  We  picked  up 
the  northeast  trade  right  outside  of  Hilo  harbor,  but 
the  miserable  breeze  was  away  around  into  the  east. 
Then  there  was  the  north  equatorial  current  setting 
westward  like  a  mighty  river.  Furthermore,  a  small 
boat,  by  the  wind  and  bucking  into  a  big  head- 
sea,  does  not  work  to  advantage.  She  jogs  up  and 
down  and  gets  nowhere.  Her  sails  are  full  and  strain 
ing,  every  little  while  she  presses  her  lee-rail  under, 
she  flounders,  and  bumps,  and  splashes,  and  that  is 
all.  Whenever  she  begins  to  gather  way,  she  runs 
ker-chug  into  a  big  mountain  of  water  and  is  brought 
to  a  standstill.  So,  with  the  Snark,  the  resultant  of 


A  Man-eater. 


ij6      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

her  smallness,  of  the  trade  around  into  the  east,  and 
of  the  strong  equatorial  current,  was  a  long  sag  south. 
Oh,  she  did  not  go  quite  south.  But  the  easting  she 
made  was  distressing.  On  October  1 1,  she  made  forty 
miles  easting ;  October  12,  fifteen  miles  ;  October  13, 
no  easting;  October  14,  thirty  miles;  October  15, 
twenty-three  miles;  October  16,  eleven  miles;  and  on 
October  17,  she  actually  went  to  the  westward  four 
miles.  Thus,  in  a  week,  she  made  one  hundred  and 
fifteen  miles  easting,  which  was  equivalent  to  sixteen 
miles  a  day.  But,  between  the  longitude  of  Hilo  and 
128°  west  longitude  is  a  difference  of  twenty-seven  de 
grees,  or,  roughly,  sixteen  hundred  miles.  At  sixteen 
miles  a  day,  one  hundred  days  would  be  required  to  ac 
complish  this  distance.  And  even  then,  our  objective, 
128°  west  longitude,  was  five  degrees  north  of  the  Line, 
while  Nuka-hiva,  in  the  Marquesas,  lay  nine  degrees 
south  of  the  Line  and  twelve  degrees  to  the  west ! 

There  remained  only  one  thing  to  do  —  to  work 
south  out  of  the  trade  and  into  the  variables.  It  is  true 
that  Captain  Bruce  found  no  variables  on  his  traverse, 
and  that  he  "  never  could  make  easting  on  either  tack." 
It  was  the  variables  or  nothing  with  us,  and  we  prayed 
for  better  luck  than  he  had  had.  The  variables  con 
stitute  the  belt  of  ocean  lying  between  the  trades  and 
the  doldrums,  and  are  conjectured  to  be  the  draughts 
of  heated  air  which  rise  in  the  doldrums,  flow  high  in 
the  air  counter  to  the  trades,  and  gradually  sink  down 
till  they  fan  the  surface  of  the  ocean  where  they  are 
found.  And  they  are  found  .  .  .  where  they  are 
found  ;  for  they  are  wedged  between  the  trades  and  the 
doldrums,  which  same  shift  their  territory  from  day  to 
day  and  month  to  month. 


A    PACIFIC    TRAVERSE  137 

We  found  the  variables  in  11°  north  latitude,  and 
11°  north  latitude  we  hugged  jealously.  To  the  south 
lay  the  doldrums.  To  the  north  lay  the  northeast 
trade  that  refused  to  blow  from  the  northeast.  The 
days  came  and  went,  and  always  they  found  the  Snark 
somewhere  near  the  eleventh  parallel.  The  variables 
were  truly  variable.  A  light  head-wind  would  die 
away  and  leave  us  rolling  in  a  calm  for  forty-eight 
hours.  Then  a  light  head-wind  would  spring  up,  blow 
for  three  hours,  and  leave  us  rolling  in  another  calm 
for  forty-eight  hours.  Then  —  hurrah  !  —  the  wind 
would  come  out  of  the  west,  fresh,  beautifully  fresh, 
and  send  the  Snark  along,  wing  and  wing,  her  wake 
bubbling,  the  log-line  straight  astern.  At  the  end  of 
half  an  hour,  while  we  were  preparing  to  set  the  spin 
naker,  with  a  few  sickly  gasps  the  wind  would  die 
away.  And  so  it  went.  We  wagered  optimistically  on 
every  favorable  fan  of  air  that  lasted  over  five  minutes; 
but  it  never  did  any  good.  The  fans  faded  out  just 
the  same. 

But  there  were  exceptions.  In  the  variables,  if  you 
wait  long  enough,  something  is  bound  to  happen,  and 
we  were  so  plentifully  stocked  with  food  and  water 
that  we  could  afford  to  wait.  On  October  26,  we 
actually  made  one  hundred  and  three  miles  of  easting, 
and  we  talked  about  it  for  days  afterward.  Once  we 
caught  a  moderate  gale  from  the  south,  which  blew  it 
self  out  in  eight  hours,  but  it  helped  us  to  seventy-one 
miles  of  easting  in  that  particular  twenty-four  hours. 
And  then,  just  as  it  was  expiring,  the  wind  came  straight 
out  from  the  north  (the  directly  opposite  quarter),  and 
fanned  us  along  over  another  degree  of  easting. 

In  years  and  years  no  sailing  vessel  has  attempted 


138      THE    CRUISE   OF   THE    SNARK 


this  traverse,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  the  midst  of 
one  of  the  loneliest  of  the  Pacific  solitudes.  In  the 
sixty  days  we  were  crossing  it  we  sighted  no  sail,  lifted 
no  steamer's  smoke  above  the  horizon.  A  disabled 
vessel  could  drift  in  this  deserted  expanse  for  a  dozen 
generations,  and  there  would  be  no  rescue.  The  only 
chance  of  rescue  would  be  from  a  vessel  like  the  Snark, 
and  the  Snark  happened  to  be  there  principally  because 

of  the  fact  that  the 
traverse  had  been 
begun  before  the 
particular  para 
graph  in  the  sail 
ing  directions  had 
been  read.  Stand 
ing  upright  on 
deck,  a  straight  line 
drawn  from  the 
eye  to  the  horizon 
would  measure 

three  miles  and  a  half.  Thus,  seven  miles  was  the 
diameter  of  the  circle  of  the  sea  in  which  we  had. our 
centre.  Since  we  remained  always  in  the  centre,  and 
since  we  constantly  were  moving  in  some  direction,  we 
looked  upon  many  circles.  But  all  circles  looked 
alike.  No  tufted  islets,  gray  headlands,  nor  glistening 
patches  of  white  canvas  ever  marred  the  symmetry  of 
that  unbroken  curve.  Clouds  came  and  went,  rising 
over  the  rim  of  the  circle,  flowing  across  the  space 
and  spilling  away  and  down  across  the  opposite 
rim. 

The   world    faded    as  the  procession  of  the  weeks 
marched    by.     The    world    faded    until  at    last    there 


Through  the  Shark's  Jaws. 


Up  0V 

of  it, 


A   PACIFIC   TRAVERSE  139 

ceased  to  be  any  world  except  the  little  world  of  the 
Snark,  freighted  with  her  seven  souls  and  floating  on 
the  expanse  of  the  waters.  Our  memories  of  the  world, 
the  great  world,  became  like  dreams  of  former  lives  we 
had  lived  somewhere  before  we  came  to  be  born  on  the 
Snark.  After  we  had  been  out  of  fresh  vegetables  for 
some  time,  we  mentioned  such  things  in  much  the 
same  way  I  have  heard  my  father  mention  the  vanished 
apples  of  his  boyhood.  Man  is  a  creature  of  habit,  and 
we  on  the  Snark  had  got  the  habit  of  the  Snark. 
Everything  about  her  and  aboard  her  was  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  anything  different  would  have  been  an 
irritation  and  an  offence. 

There  was  no  way  by  which  the  great  world 
could  intrude.  Our  bell  rang  the  hours,  but  no  caller  ever 
rang  it.  There  were  no  guests  to  dinner,  no  telegrams, 
no  insistent  telephone  jangles  invading  our  privacy. 
We  had  no  engagements  to  keep,  no  trains  to  catch, 
and  there  were  no  morning  newspapers  over  which  to 
waste  time  in  learning  what  was  happening  to  our 
fifteen  hundred  million  other  fellow-creatures. 

But  it  was  not  dull.  The  affairs  of  our  little  world 
had  to  be  regulated,  and,  unlike  the  great  world,  our  world 
had  to  be  steered  in  its  journey  through  space.  Also, 
there  were  cosmic  disturbances  to  be  encountered  and 
baffled,  such  as  do  not  afflict  the  big  earth  in  its  frictionless 
orbit  through  the  windless  void.  And  we  never  knew, 
from  moment  to  moment,  what  was  going  to  happen 
next.  There  was  spice  and  variety  enough  and  to 
spare.  Thus,  at  four  in  the  morning,  I  relieve  Her 
mann  at  the  wheel. 

"  East-northeast,"  he  gives  me  the  course.  "  She's 
eight  points  off,  but  she  ain't  steering." 


1 40      THE    CRUISE   OF   THE   SNARK 

Small  wonder.  The  vessel  does  not  exist  that  can 
be  steered  in»so  absolute  a  calm. 

"  I  had  a  breeze  a  little  while  ago  —  maybe  it  will 
come  back  again,"  Hermann  says  hopefully,  ere  he 
starts  forward  to  the  cabin  and  his  bunk. 

The  mizzen  is  in  and  fast  furled.  In  the  night, 
what  of  the  roll  and  the  absence  of  wind,  it  had 
made  life  too  hideous  to  be  permitted  to  go  on  rasping  at 
the  mast,  smashing  at  the  tackles,  and  buffeting  the 
empty  air  into  hollow  outbursts  of  sound.  But  the 
big  mainsail  is  still  on,  and  the  staysail,  jib,  and  flying- 
jib  are  snapping  and  slashing  at  their  sheets  with  every 
roll.  Every  star  is  out.  Just  for  luck  I  put  the  wheel 
hard  over  in  the  opposite  direction  to  which  it  had  been 
left  by  Hermann,  and  I  lean  back  and  gaze  up  at  the 
stars.  There  is  nothing  else  for  me  to  do.  There  is 
nothing  to  be  done  with  a  sailing  vessel  rolling  in  a  stark 
calm. 

Then  I  feel  a  fan  on  my  cheek,  faint,  so  faint,  that 
I  can  just  sense  it  ere  it  is  gone.  But  another 
comes,  and  another,  until  a  real  and  just  perceptible 
breeze  is  blowing.  How  the  Snark's  sails  manage  to 
feel  it  is  beyond  me,  but  feel  it  they  do,  as  she  does 
as  well,  for  the  compass  card  begins  slowly  to  revolve 
in  the  binnacle.  In  reality,  it  is  not  revolving  at  all. 
It  is  held  by  terrestrial  magnetism  in  one  place,  and  it 
is  the  Snark  that  is  revolving,  pivoted  upon  that  deli 
cate  cardboard  device  that  floats  in  a  closed  vessel  of 
alcohol. 

So  the  Snark  comes  back  on  her  course.  The  breath 
increases  to  a  tiny  puff.  The  Snark  feels  the  weight 
of  it  and  actually  heels  over  a  trifle.  There  is  fly 
ing  scud  overhead,  and  I  notice  the  stars  being  blotted 


A    PACIFIC    TRAVERSE  141 

out.  Walls  of  darkness  close  in  upon  me,  so  that, 
when  the  last  star  is  gone,  the  darkness  is  so  near  that 
it  seems  I  can  reach  out  and  touch  it  on  every  side. 
When  I  lean  toward  it,  I  can  feel  it  loom  against  my 
face.  Puff  follows  puff,  and  I  am  glad  the  mizzen 
is  furled.  Phew  !  that  was  a  stiff  one  !  The  Snark 
goes  over  and  down  until  her  lee-rail  is  buried  and 
the  whole  Pacific  Ocean  is  pouring  in.  Four  or  five 
of  these  gusts  make  me  wish  that  the  jib  and  flying-jib 
were  in.  The  sea  is  picking  up,  the  gusts  are  growing 
stronger  and  more  frequent,  and  there  is  a  splatter  of 
wet  in  the  air.  There  is  no  use  in  attempting  to  gaze 
to  windward.  The  wall  of  blackness  is  within  arm's 
length.  Yet  I  cannot  help  attempting  to  see  and  gauge 
the  blows  that  are  being  struck  at  the  Snark.  There 
is  something  ominous  and  menacing  up  there  to  wind 
ward,  and  I  have  a  feeling  that  if  I  look  long  enough 
and  strong  enough,  I  shall  divine  it.  Futile  feeling. 
Between  two  gusts  I  leave  the  wheel  and  run  forward  to 
the  cabin  companionway,  where  I  light  matches  and 
consult  the  barometer.  "  29-90  "  it  reads.  That  sen 
sitive  instrument  refuses  to  take  notice  of  the  distur 
bance  which  is  humming  with  a  deep,  throaty  voice  in 
the  rigging.  I  get  back  to  the  wheel  just  in  time  to 
meet  another  gust,  the  strongest  yet.  Well,  anyway, 
the  wind  is  abeam  and  the  Snark  is  on  her  course,  eat 
ing  up  easting.  That  at  least  is  well. 

The  jib  and  flying-jib  bother  me,  and  I  wish  they 
were  in.  She  would  make  easier  weather  of  it,  and  less 
risky  weather  likewise.  The  wind  snorts,  and  stray 
raindrops  pelt  like  birdshot.  I  shall  certainly  have  to 
call  all  hands,  I  conclude  ;  then  conclude  the  next  in 
stant  to  hang  on  a  little  longer.  Maybe  this  is  the  end 


i42      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


of  it,  and  I  shall  have  called  them  for  nothing.  It  is 
better  to  let  them  sleep.  I  hold  the  Snark  down  to 
her  task,  and  from  out  of  the  darkness,  at  right  angles, 
comes  a  deluge  of  rain  accompanied  by  shrieking  wind. 
Then  everything  eases  except  the  blackness,  and  I  re 
joice  in  that  I  have  not  called  the  men. 

No  sooner  does  the  wind  ease  than  the  sea  picks 
up.     The  combers  are  breaking  now,   and  the  boat  is 

tossing  like  a  cork. 
Then  out  of  the 
blackness  the  gusts 
come  harder  and 
faster  than  before. 
If  only  I  knew 
what  was  up  there 
to  windward  in  the 
blackness  !  The 
Snark  is  making 
heavy  weather  of 
it,  and  her  lee-rail 
is  buried  oftener  than  not.  More  shrieks  and  snorts 
of  wind.  Now,  if  ever,  is  the  time  to  call  the  men. 
I  will  call  them,  I  resolve.  Then  there  is  a  burst 
of  rain,  a  slackening  of  the  wind,  and  I  do  not  call. 
But  it  is  rather  lonely,  there  at  the  wheel,  steering  a 
little  world  through  howling  blackness.  It  is  quite  a 
responsibility  to  be  all  alone  on  the  surface  of  a  little 
world  in  time  of  stress,  doing  the  thinking  for  its 
sleeping  inhabitants.  I  recoil  from  the  responsibility 
as  more  gusts  begin  to  strike  and  as  a  sea  licks  along 
the  weather  rail  and  splashes  over  into  the  cockpit. 
The  salt  water  seems  strangely  warm  to  my  body  and 
is  shot  through  with  ghostly  nodules  of  phospho- 


A  Dolphin. 


A   PACIFIC   TRAVERSE  143 

rescent  light.  I  shall  surely  call  all  hands  to  shorten 
sail.  Why  should  they  sleep  ?  I  am  a  fool  to  have 
any  compunctions  in  the  matter.  My  intellect  is 
arrayed  against  my  heart.  It  was  my  heart  that  said, 
"  Let  them  sleep/'  Yes,  but  it  was  my  intellect  that 
backed  up  my  heart  in  that  judgment.  Let  my  intel 
lect  then  reverse  the  judgment ;  and,  while  I  am  specu 
lating  as  to  what  particular  entity  issued  that  command 
to  my  intellect,  the  gusts  die  away.  Solicitude  for  mere 
bodily  comfort  has  no  place  in  practical  seamanship,  I 
conclude  sagely;  but  study  the  feel  of  the  next  series 
of  gusts  and  do  not  call  the  men.  After  all,  it  is  my 
intellect,  behind  everything,  procrastinating,  measuring 
its  knowledge  of  what  the  Snark  can  endure  against  the 
blows  being  struck  at  her,  and  waiting  the  call  of  all 
hands  against  the  striking  of  still  severer  blows. 

Daylight,  gray  and  violent,  steals  through  the 
cloud-pall  and  shows  a  foaming  sea  that  flattens 
under  the  weight  of  recurrent  and  increasing  squalls. 
Then  comes  the  rain,  filling  the  windy  valleys  of  the 
sea  with  milky  smoke  and  further  flattening  the  waves, 
which  but  wait  for  the  easement  of  wind  and  rain  to 
leap  more  wildly  than  before.  Come  the  men  on 
deck,  their  sleep  out,  and  among  them  Hermann,  his 
face  on  the  broad  grin  in  appreciation  of  the  breeze  of 
wind  I  have  picked  up.  I  turn  the  wheel  over  to 
Warren  and  start  to  go  below,  pausing  on  the 
way  to  .rescue  the  galley  stovepipe  which  has  gone 
adrift.  I  am  barefooted,  and  my  toes  have  had  an  ex 
cellent  education  in  the  art  of  clinging ;  but,  as  the  rail 
buries  itself  in  a  green  sea,  I  suddenly  sit  down  on  the 
streaming  deck.  Hermann  good-naturedly  elects  to 
question  my  selection  of  such  a  spot.  Then  comes 


i44      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

the  next  roll,  and  he  sits  down,  suddenly,  and  without 
premeditation.  The  Snark  heels  over  and  down,  the 
rail  takes  it  green,  and  Hermann  and  I,  clutching  the 
precious  stovepipe,  are  swept  down  into  the  lee- 
scuppers.  After  that  I  fin:sh  my  journey  below,  and 
while  changing  my  clothes  grin  with  satisfaction  —  the 
Snark  is  making  easting. 

No,  it  is  not  all  monotony.  When  we  had  worried 
along  our  easting  to  126°  west  longitude,  we  left  the 
variables  and  headed  south  through  the  doldrums, 
where  was  much  calm  weather  and  where,  taking 
advantage  of  every  fan  of  air,  we  were  often  glad  to 
make  a  score  of  miles  in  as  many  hours.  And  yet,  on 
such  a  day,  we  might  pass  through  a  dozen  squalls  and 
be  surrounded  by  dozens  more.  And  every  squall 
was  to  be  regarded  as  a  bludgeon  capable  of  crushing 
the  Snark.  We  were  struck  sometimes  by  the  centres 
and  sometimes  by  the  sides  of  these  squalls,  and  we 
never  knew  just  where  or  how  we  were  to  be  hit. 
The  squall  that  rose  up,  covering  half  the  heavens,  and 
swept  down  upon  us,  as  likely  as  not  split  into  two 
squalls  which  passed  us  harmlessly  on  either  side ; 
while  the  tiny,  innocent-looking  squall  that  appeared 
to  carry  no  more  than  a  hogshead  of  water  and  a  pound 
of  wind,  would  abruptly  assume  cyclopean  proportions, 
deluging  us  with  rain  and  overwhelming  us  with  wind. 
Then  there  were  treacherous  squalls  that  went  boldly 
astern  and  sneaked  back  upon  us  from  a  mile  to  leeward. 
Again,  two  squalls  would  tear  along,  one  on  each  side 
of  us,  and  we  would  get  a  fillip  from  each  of  them. 
Now  a  gale  certainly  grows  tiresome  after  a  few  hours, 
but  squalls  never..  The  thousandth  squall  in  one's  ex 
perience  is  as  interesting  as  the  first  one,  and  perhaps  a 


A   PACIFIC    TRAVERSE 

bit  more  so.  It  is  the  tyro  who  has  no  apprehension 
of  them.  The  man  of  a  thousand  squalls  respects  a 
squall.  He  knows  what  they  are. 

It  was  in  the  doldrums  that  our  most  exciting  event 
occurred.  On  November,  20,  we  discovered  that 
through  an  accident  we  had  lost  over  one-half  of  the 
supply  of  fresh  water  that  remained  to  us.  Since  we 
were  at  that  time  forty-three  days  out  from  Hilo,  our 
supply  of  fresh  water  was  not  large.  To  lose  over  half 
of  it  was  a  catastrophe.  On  close  allowance,  the  rem 
nant  of  water  we  possessed  would  last  twenty  days. 
But  we  were  in  the  doldrums  ;  there  was  no  telling 
where  the  southeast  trades  were,  nor  where  we  would 
pick  them  up. 

The  handcuffs  were  promptly  put  upon  the  pump, 
and  once  a  day  the  water  was  portioned  out.  Each 
of  us  received  a  quart  for  personal  use,  and  eight  quarts 
were  given  to  the  cook.  Enters  now  the  psychology  of 
the  situation.  No  sooner  had  the  discovery  of  the  water 
shortage  been  made  than  I,  for  one,  was  afflicted  with 
a  burning  thirst.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  never 
been  so  thirsty  in  my  life.  My  little  quart  of  water  I 
could  easily  have  drunk  in  one  draught,  and  to  refrain 
from  doing  so  required  a  severe  exertion  of  will.  Nor 
was  I  alone  in  this.  All  of  us  talked  water,  thought 
water,  and  dreamed  water  when  we  slept.  We  examined 
the  charts  for  possible  islands  to  which  to  run  in  extrem 
ity,  but  there  were  no  such  islands.  The  Marquesas  were 
the  nearest,  and  they  were  the  other  side  of  the  Line, 
and  of  the  doldrums,  too,  which  made  it  even  worse. 
We  were  in  3°  north  latitude,  while  the  Marquesas  were 
in  9°  south  latitude  —  a  difference  of  over  a  thousand 
miles.  Furthermore,  the  Marquesas  lay  some  fourteen 


r.4.6      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


degrees  to  the  west  of  our  longitude.  A  pretty  pickle 
for  a  handful  of  creatures  sweltering  on  the  ocean  in 
the  heat  of  tropic  calms. 

We  rigged  lines  on  either  side  between  the  main  and 
mizzen  riggings.  To  these  we  laced  the  big  deck 
awning,  hoisting  it  up  aft  with  a  sailing  pennant  so  that 
any  rain  it  might  collect  would  run  forward  where  it 
could  be  caught.  Here  and  there  squalls  passed  across 

the  circle  of  the 
sea.  All  day  we 
watched  them,  now 
to  port  or  star 
board,  and  again 
ahead  or  astern. 
But  never  one 
came  near  enough 
to  wet  us.  In  the 
afternoon  a  big  one 
bore  down  upon 
us.  It  spread  out 
across  the  ocean  as  it  approached,  and  we  could  see  it 
emptying  countless  thousands  of  gallons  into  the  salt 
sea.  Extra  attention  was  paid  to  the  awning,  and 
then  we  waited.  Warren,  Martin,  and  Hermann 
made  a  vivid  picture.  Grouped  together,  holding  on 
to  the  rigging,  swaying  to  the  roll,  they  were  gazing 
intently  at  the  squall.  Strain,  anxiety,  and  yearning 
were  in  every  posture  of  their  bodies.  Beside  them 
was  the  dry  and  empty  awning.  But  they  seemed 
to  grow  limp  and  to  droop  as  the  squall  broke  in  half, 
one  part  passing  on  ahead,  the  other  drawing  astern 
and  going  to  leeward. 

But  that  night  came  rain.      Martin,  whose  psycho- 


An  Unwilling  Pose. 


A    PACIFIC   TRAVERSE  147 

logical  thirst  had  compelled  him  to  drink  his  quart  of 
water  early,  got  his  mouth  down  to  the  lip  of  the  awn 
ing  and  drank  the  deepest  draught  I  ever  have  seen 
drunk.  The  precious  water  came  down  in  bucketfuls 
and  tubfuls,  and  in  two  hours  we  caught  and  stored 
away  in  the  tanks  one  hundred  and  twenty  gallons. 
Strange  to  say,  in  all  the  rest  of  our  voyage  to  the 
Marquesas  not  another  drop  of  rain  fell  on  board.  If 
that  squall  had  missed  us,  the  handcuffs  would  have 
remained  on  the  pump,  and  we  would  have  busied  our 
selves  with  utilizing  our  surplus  gasolene  for  distillation 
purposes. 

Then  there  was  the  fishing.  One  did  not  have  to 
go  in  search  of  it,  for  it  was  there  at  the  rail.  A  three- 
inch  steel  hook,  on  the  end  of  a  stout  line,  with  a 
piece  of  white  rag  for  bait,  was  all  that  was  necessary  to 
catch  bonitas  weighing  from  ten  to  twenty-five  pounds. 
Bonitas  feed  on  flying-fish,  wherefore  they  are  unac 
customed  to  nibbling  at  the  hook.  They  strike  as 
gamely  as  the  gamest  fish  in  the  sea,  and  their  first  run 
is  something  that  no  man  who  has  ever  caught  them 
will  forget  Also,  bonitas  are  the  veriest  cannibals. 
The  instant  one  is  hooked  he  is  attacked  by  his  fel 
lows.  Often  and  often  we  hauled  them  on  board  with 
fresh,  clean-bitten  holes  in  them  the  size  of  teacups. 

One  school  of  bonitas,  numbering  many  thousands, 
stayed  with  us  day  and  night  for  more  than  three  weeks. 
Aided  by  the  Snark,  it  was  great  hunting ;  for  they  cut 
a  swath  of  destruction  through  the  ocean  half  a  mile 
wide  and  fifteen  hundred  miles  in  length.  They  ranged 
along  abreast  of  the  Snark  on  either  side,  pouncing  upon 
the  flying-fish  her  forefoot  scared  up.  Since  they  were 
continually  pursuing  astern  the  flying-fish  that  survived 


148      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

for  several  flights,  they  were  always  overtaking  the 
Snark,  and  at  any  time  one  could  glance  astern  and  on 
the  front  of  a  breaking  wave  see  scores  of  their  silvery 
forms  coasting  down  just  under  the  surface.  When 
they  had  eaten  their  fill,  it  was  their  delight  to  get  in 
the  shadow  of  the  boat,  or  of  her  sails,  and  a  hundred  or 
so  were  always  to  be  seen  lazily  sliding  along  and  keep 
ing  cool. 

But  the  poor  flying-fish  !  Pursued  and  eaten  alive 
by  the  bonitas  and  dolphins,  they  sought  flight  in  the 
air,  where  the  swooping  seabirds  drove  them  back  into 
the  water.  Under  heaven  there  was  no  refuge  for  them. 
Flying-fish  do  not  play  when  they  essay  the  air.  It  is 
a  life-and-death  affair  with  them.  A  thousand  times  a 
day  we  could  lift  our  eyes  and  see  the  tragedy  played 
out.  The  swift,  broken  circling  of  a  guny  might  at 
tract  one's  attention.  A  glance  beneath  shows  the 
back  of  a  dolphin  breaking  the  surface  in  a  wild  rush. 
Just  in  front  of  its  nose  a  shimmering  palpitant  streak 
of  silver  shoots  from  the  water  into  the  air  —  a  delicate, 
organic  mechanism  of  flight,  endowed  with  sensation, 
power  of  direction,  and  love  of  life.  The  guny  swoops 
for  it  and  misses,  and  the  flying-fish,  gaining  its  alti 
tude  by  rising,  kite-like,  against  the  wind,  turns  in  a 
half-circle  and  skims  off  to  leeward,  gliding  on  the 
bosom  of  the  wind.  Beneath  it,  the  wake  of  the  dol 
phin  shows  in  churning  foam.  So  he  follows,  gazing 
upward  with  large  eyes  at  the  flashing  breakfast  that 
navigates  an  element  other  than  his  own.  He  cannot 
rise  to  so  lofty  occasion,  but  he  is  a  thorough-going 
empiricist,  and  he  knows>  sooner  or  later,  if  not  gobbled 
up  by  the  guny,  that  the  flying-fish  must  return  to  the 
water.  And  then  —  breakfast.  We  used  to  pity  the 


A    PACIFIC    TRAVERSE  149 

poor  winged  fish.  It  was  sad  to  see  such  sordid  and 
bloody  slaughter.  And  then,  in  the  night  watches, 
when  a  forlorn  little  flying-fish  struck  the  mainsail  and 
fell  gasping  and  splattering  on  the  deck,  we  would  rush 
for  it  just  as  eagerly,  just  as  greedily,  just  as  vora 
ciously,  as  the  dolphins  and  bonitas.  For  know  that 
flying-fish  are  most  toothsome  for  breakfast.  It  is  al 
ways  a  wonder  to  me  that  such  dainty  meat  does  not 
build  dainty  tissue  in  the  bodies  of  the  devourers. 
Perhaps  the  dolphins  and  bonitas  are  coarser-fibred 
because  of  the  high  speed  at  which  they  drive  their 
bodies  in  order  to  catch  their  prey.  But  then  again, 
the  flying-fish  drive  their  bodies  at  high  speed,  too. 

Sharks  we  caught  occasionally,  on  large  hooks,  with 
chain-swivels,  bent  on  a  length  of  small  rope.  And 
sharks  meant  pilot-fish,  and  remoras,  and  various  sorts 
of  parasitic  creatuces.  Regular  man-eaters  some  of 
the  sharks  proved,  tiger-eyed  and  with  twelve  rows 
of  teeth,  razor-sharp.  By  the  way,  we  of  the  Snark 
are  agreed  that  we  have  eaten  many  fish  that  will  not 
compare  with  baked  shark  smothered  in  tomato  dress 
ing.  In  the  calms  we  occasionally  caught  a  fish  called 
"  hake  "  by  the  Japanese  cook.  And  once,  on  a  spoon- 
hook  trolling  a  hundred  yards  astern,  we  caught  a  snake- 
like  fish,  over  three  feet  in  length  and  not  more  than 
three  inches  in  diameter,  with  four  fangs  in  his  jaw. 
He  proved  the  most  delicious  fish  —  delicious  in  meat 
and  flavor  —  that  we  have  ever  eaten  on  board. 

The  most  welcome  addition  to  our  larder  was  a 
green  sea-turtle,  weighing  a  full  hundred  pounds  and 
appearing  on  the  table  most  appetizingly  in  steaks, 
soups,  and  stews,  and  finally  in  a  wonderful  curry 
which  tempted  all  hands  into  eating  more  rice  than 


\ 


5° 


THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


was  good  for  them.  The  turtle  was  sighted  to  wind 
ward,  calmly  sleeping  on  the  surface  in  the  midst  of  a 
huge  school  of  curious  dolphins.  It  was  a  deep-sea 
turtle  of  a  surety,  for  the  nearest  land  was  a  thousand 
miles  away.  We  put  the  Snark  about  and  went  back 

for  him,  Hermann  driving 
the  granes  into  his  head 
and  neck.  When  hauled 
aboard,  numerous  remora 
were  clinging  to  his  shell, 
and  out  of  the  hollows  at 
the  roots  of  his  flippers 
crawled  several  large  crabs. 
It  did  not  take  the  crew  of 
the  Snark  longer  than  the 
next  meal  to  reach  the  unan 
imous  conclusion  that  it 
would  willingly  put  the 
Snark  about  any  time  for 
a  turtle. 

But    it    is    the     dolphin 

A  Four-foot  Seven-inch  Dolphin.       that  is   the    king  °f  ^eep-sea 

fishes.      Never  is    his   color 

twice  quite  the  same.  Swimming  in  the  sea,  an  ethe 
real  creature  of  palest  azure,  he  displays  in  that  one 
guise  a  miracle  of  color.  But  it  is  nothing  compared 
with  the  displays  of  which  he  is  capable.  At  one 
time  he  will  appear  green  —  pale  green,  deep  green, 
phosphorescent  green;  at  another  time  blue  —  deep 
blue,  electric  blue,  all  the  spectrum  of  blue.  Catch 
him  on  a  hook,  and  he  turns  to  gold,  yellow  gold,  all 
gold.  Haul  him  on  deck,  and  he  excels  the  spectrum, 
passing  through  inconceivable  shades  of  blues,  greens, 


A    PACIFIC    TRAVERSE  151 

and  yellows,  and  then,  suddenly,  turning  a  ghostly 
white,  in  the  midst  of  which  are  bright  blue  spots,  and 
you  suddenly  discover  that  he  is  speckled  like  a  trout. 
Then  back  from  white  he  goes,  through  all  the  range 
of  colors,  finally  turning  to  a  mother-of-pearl. 

For  those  who  are  devoted  to  fishing,  I  can  recom 
mend  no  finer  sport  than  catching  dolphin.  Of  course, 
it  must  be  done  on  a  thin  line  with  reel  and  pole.  A 
No.  7,  O'Shaughnessy  tarpon  hook  is  just  the  thing, 
baited  with  an  entire  flying-fish.  Like  the  bonita,  the 
dolphin's  fare  consists  of  flying-fish,  and  he  strikes  like 
lightning  at  the  bait.  The  first  warning  is  when  the 
reel  screeches  and  you  see  the  line  smoking  out  at 
right  angles  to  the  boat.  Before  you  have  time  to 
entertain  anxiety  concerning  the  length  of  your  line, 
the  fish  rises  into  the  air  in  a  succession  of  leaps. 
Since  he  is  quite  certain  to  be  four  feet  long  or  over, 
the  sport  of  landing  so  gamey  a  fish  can  be  realized. 
When  hooked,  he  invariably  turns  golden.  The  idea 
of  the  series  of  leaps  is  to  rid  himself  of  the  hook, 
and  the  man  who  has  made  the  strike  must  be  of  iron 
or  decadent  if  his  heart  does  not  beat  with  an  extra 
flutter  when  he  beholds  such  gorgeous  fish,  glittering 
in  golden  mail  and  shaking  itself  like  a  stallion  in  each 
mid-air  leap.  'Ware  slack  !  If  you  don't,  on  one  of 
those  leaps  the  hook  will  be  flung  out  and  twenty  feet 
away.  No  slack,  and  away  he  will  go  on  another  run, 
culminating  in  another  series  of  leaps.  About  this 
time  one  begins  to  worry  over  the  line,  and  to  wish 
that  he  had  had  nine  hundred  feet  on  the  reel  origi 
nally  instead  of  six  hundred.  With  careful  playing  the 
line  can  be  saved,  and  after  an  hour  of  keen  excitement 
the  fish  can  be  brought  to  gaff.  One  such  dolphin  I 


152      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

landed  on  the  Snark  measured  four  feet  and  seven 
inches. 

Hermann  caught  dolphins  more  prosaically.  A 
hand-line  and  a  chunk  of  shark-meat  was  all  he  needed. 
His  hand-line  was  very  thick,  but  on  more  than  one 
occasion  it  parted  and  lost  the  fish.  One  day  a  dol 
phin  got  away  with  a  lure  of  Hermann's  manufacture, 
to  which  were  lashed  four  O'Shaughnessy  -hooks. 
Within  an  hour  the  same  dolphin  was  landed  with  the 
rod,  and  on  dissecting  him  the  four  hooks  were  re 
covered.  The  dolphins,  which  remained  with  us  over 
a  month,  deserted  us  north  of  the  line,  and  not  one 
was  seen  during  the  remainder  of  the  traverse. 

So  the  days  passed.  There  was  so  much  to  be  done 
that  time  never  dragged.  Had  there  been  little  to  do, 
time  could  not  have  dragged  with  such  wonderful  sea 
scapes  and  cloudscapes  —  dawns  that  were  like  burning 
imperial  cities  under  rainbows  that  arched  nearly  to  the 
zenith  ;  sunsets  that  bathed  the  purple  sea  in  rivers  of 
rose-colored  light,  flowing  from  a  sun  whose  diverging, 
heaven-climbing  rays  were  of  the  purest  blue.  Overside, 
in  the  heat  of  the  day,  the  sea  was  an  azure  satiny  fabric, 
in  the  depths  of  which  the  sunshine  focussed  in  funnels 
of  light.  Astern,  deep  down,  when  there  was  a  breeze, 
bubbled  a  procession  of  milky-turquoise  ghosts  —  the 
foam  flung  down  by  the  hull  of  the  Snark  each  time 
she  floundered  against  a  sea.  At  night  the  wake  was 
phosphorescent  fire,  where  the  medusa  slime  resented 
our  passing  bulk,  while  far  down  could  be  observed 
the  unceasing  flight  of  comets,  with  long,  undulating, 
nebulous  tails  —  caused  by  the  passage  of  the  bonitas 
through  the  resentful  medusa  slime.  And  now  and 
again,  from  out  of  the  darkness  on  either  hand,  just 


A   PACIFIC   TRAVERSE  153 

under  the  surface,  larger  phosphorescent  organisms 
flashed  up  like  electric  lights,  marking  collisions  with 
the  careless  bonitas  skurrying  ahead  to  the  good  hunt 
ing  just  beyond  our  bowsprit. 

We  made  our  easting,  worked  down  through  the 
doldrums,  and  caught  a  fresh  breeze  out  of  south-by- 
west.  Hauled  up  by  the  wind,  on  such  a  slant,  we 
would  fetch  past  the  Marquesas  far  away  to  the  west 
ward.  But  the  next  day,  on  Tuesday,  November  26, 
in  the  thick  of  a  heavy  squall,  the  wind  shifted  sud 
denly  to  the  southeast.  It  was  the  trade  at  last. 
There  were  no  more  squalls,  naught  but  fine  weather, 
a  fair  wind,  and  a  whirling  log,  with  sheets  slacked  off 
and  with  spinnaker  and  mainsail  swaying  and  bellying 
on  either  side.  The  trade  backed  more  and  more, 
until  it  blew  out  of  the  northeast,  while  we  steered  a 
steady  course  to  the  southwest.  Ten  days  of  this,  and 
on  the  morning  of  December  6,  at  five  o'clock,  we 
sighted  land  "just  where  it  ought  to  have  been,"  dead 
ahead.  We  passed  to  leeward  of  Ua-huka,  skirted  the 
southern  edge  of  Nuka-hiva,  and  that  night,  in  driving 
squalls  and  inky  darkness,  fought  our  way  in  to  an 
anchorage  in  the  narrow  bay  of  Taiohae.  The  anchor 
rumbled  down  to  the  blatting  of  wild  goats  on  the 
cliffs,  and  the  air  we  breathed  was  heavy  with  the  per 
fume  of  flowers.  The  traverse  was  accomplished. 
Sixty  days  from  land  to  land,  across  a  lonely  sea  above 
whose  horizons  never  rise  the  straining  sails  of  ships. 


CHAPTER   X 

Typee 

To  the  eastward  Ua-huka  was  being  blotted  out  by 
an  evening  rain-squall  that  was  fast  overtaking  the 
Snark.  But  that  little  craft,  her  big  spinnaker  filled 
by  the  southeast  trade,  was  making  a  good  race  of  it. 
Cape  Martin,  the  southeasternmost  point  of  Nuku-hiva, 
was  abeam,  and  Comptroller  Bay  was  opening  up  as 
we  fled  past  its  wide  entrance,  where  Sail  Rock,  for  all 
the  world  like  the  spritsail  of  a  Columbia  River  salmon- 
boat,  was  making  brave  weather  of  it  in  the  smashing 
southeast  swell. 

"  What  do  you  make  that  out  to  be  ? "  I  asked 
Hermann,  at  the  wheel. 

"  A  fishing-boat,  sir,"  he  answered  after  careful 
scrutiny. 

Yet  on  the  chart  it  was  plainly  marked,  "  Sail  Rock." 

But  we  were  more  interested  in  the  recesses  of 
Comptroller  Bay,  where  our  eyes  eagerly  sought  out 
the  three  bights  of  land  and  centred  on  the  midmost 
one,  where  the  gathering  twilight  showed  the  dim  walls 
of  a  valley  extending  inland.  How  often  we  had  pored 
over  the  chart  and  centred  always  on  that  midmost 
bight  and  on  the  valley  it  opened  — the  Valley  of  Ty 
pee.  "  Taipi  "  the  chart  spelled  it,  and  spelled  it  cor 
rectly,  but  I  prefer  "Typee,"  and  I  shall  always  spell 
it  "  Typee."  When  I  was  a  little  boy,  I  read  a  book 
spelled  in  that  manner —  Herman  Melville's  "  Typee  " ; 
and  many  long  hours  I  dreamed  over  its  pages.  Nor 

'54 


TYPEE  155 

was  it  all  dreaming.  I  resolved  there  and  then,  might 
ily,  come  what  would,  that  when  I  had  gained  strength 
and  years,  I,  too,  would  voyage  to  Typee.  For  the  won 
der  of  the  world  was  penetrating  to  my  tiny  conscious- 


Grass-houses. 

ness — the  wonder  that  was  to  lead  me  to  many  lands, 
and  that  leads  and  never  palls.  The  years  passed,  but 
Typee  was  not  forgotten.  Returned  to  San  Francisco 
from  a  seven  months'  cruise  in  the  North  Pacific,  I 
decided  the  time  had  come.  The  brig  Galilee  was 
sailing  for  the  Marquesas,  but  her  crew  was  complete 


156      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

and  I,  who  was  an  able  seaman  before  the  mast  and 
young  enough  to  be  overweeningly  proud  of  it,  was 
willing  to  condescend  to  ship  as  cabin-boy  in  order  to 
make  the  pilgrimage  to  Typee.  Of  course,  the  Galilee 
would  have  sailed  from  the  Marquesas  without  me, 
for  I  was  bent  on  finding  another  Fayaway  and  another 
Kory-Kory.  I  doubt  that  the  captain  read  desertion 
in  my  eye.  Perhaps  even  the  berth  of  cabin-boy  was 
already  filled.  At  any  rate,  I  did  not  get  it. 

Then  came  the  rush  of  years,  filled  brimming  with 
projects,  achievements,  and  failures ;  but  Typee  was 
not  forgotten,  and  here  I  was  now,  gazing  at  its  misty 
outlines  till  the  squall  swooped  down  and  the  Snark 
dashed  on  into  the  driving  smother.  Ahead,  we 
caught  a  glimpse  and  took  the  compass  bearing  of 
Sentinel  Rock,  wreathed  with  pounding  surf.  Then 
it,  too,  was  effaced  by  the  rain  and  darkness.  We 
steered  straight  for  it,  trusting  to  hear  the  sound  of 
breakers  in  time  to  sheer  clear.  We  had  to  steer  for 
it.  We  had  naught  but  a  compass  bearing  with  which 
to  orientate  ourselves,  and  if  we  missed  Sentinel  Rock, 
we  missed  Taiohae  Bay,  and  we  would  have  to  throw 
the  Snark  up  to  the  wind  and  lie  off  and  on  the  whole 
night  —  no  pleasant  prospect  for  voyagers  weary  from 
a  sixty  days'  traverse  of  the  vast  Pacific  solitude,  and 
land-hungry,  and  fruit-hungry,  and  hungry  with  an 
appetite  of  years  for  the  sweet  vale  of  Typee. 

Abruptly,  with  a  roar  of  sound,  Sentinel  Rock 
loomed  through  the  rain  dead  ahead.  We  altered  our 
course,  and,  with  mainsail  and  spinnaker  bellying  to 
the  squall,  drove  past.  Under  the  lee  of  the  rock  the 
wind  dropped  us,  and  we  rolled  in  an  absolute  calm. 
Then  a  puff  of  air  struck  us,  right  in  our  teeth,  out  of 


TYPEE  157 

Taiohae  Bay.  It  was  in  spinnaker,  up  mizzen,  all 
sheets  by  the  wind,  and  we  were  moving  slowly  ahead, 
heaving  the  lead  and  straining  our  eyes  for  the  fixed 
red  light  on  the  ruined  fort  that  would  give  us  our 
bearings  to  anchorage.  The  air  was  light  and  baffling, 
now  east,  now  west,  now  north,  now  south ;  while 
from  either  hand  came  the  roar  of  unseen  breakers. 
From  the  looming  cliffs  arose  the  blatting  of  wild 
goats,  and  overhead  the  first  stars  were  peeping  mistily 
through  the  ragged  train  of  the  passing  squall.  At 
the  end  of  two  hours,  having  come  a  mile  into  the  bay, 
we  dropped  anchor  in  eleven  fathoms.  And  so  we 
came  to  Taiohae. 

In  the  morning  we  awoke  in  fairyland.  The  Snark 
rested  in  a  placid  harbor  that  nestled  in  a  vast  amphi 
theatre,  the  towering,  vine-clad  walls  of  which  seemed 
to  rise  directly  from  the  water.  Far  up,  to  the  east, 
we  glimpsed  the  thin  line  of  a  trail,  visible  in  one 
place,  where  it  scoured  across  the  face  of  the  wall. 

"  The  path  by  which  Toby  escaped  from  Typee !  " 
we  cried. 

We  were  not  long  in  getting  ashore  and  astride 
horses,  though  the  consummation  of  our  pilgrimage  had 
to  be  deferred  for  a  day.  Two  months  at  sea,  bare 
footed  all  the  time,  without  space  in  which  to  exercise 
one's  limbs,  is  not  the  best  preliminary  to  leather  shoes 
and  walking.  Besides,  the  land  had  to  cease  its  nau 
seous  rolling  before  we  could  feel  fit  for  riding  goat- 
like  horses  over  giddy  trails.  So  we  took  a  short  ride 
to  break  in,  and  crawled  through  thick  jungle  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  a  venerable  moss-grown  idol,  where 
had  foregathered  a  German  trader  and  a  Norwegian 
captain  to  estimate  the  weight  of  said  idol,  and  to 


158     THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

speculate  upon  depreciation  in  value  caused  by  sawing 
him  in  half.  They  treated  the  old  fellow  sacrilegiously, 
digging  their  knives  into  him  to  see  how  hard  he  was 
and  how  deep  his  mossy  mantle,  and  commanding  him 


The  Goddess  of  the  Pool. 

to  rise  up  and  save  them  trouble  by  walking  down  to 
the  ship  himself.  In  lieu  of  which,  nineteen  Kanakas 
slung  him  on  a  frame  of  timbers  and  toted  him  to  the 
ship,  where,  battened  down  under  hatches,  even  now 
he  is  cleaving  the  South  Pacific  Horn  ward  and  toward 
Europe  —  the  ultimate  abiding-place  for  all  good 


TYPEE  159 

heathen  idols,  save  for  the  few  in  America  and  one 
in  particular  who  grins  beside  me  as  I  write,  and  who, 
barring  shipwreck,  will  grin  somewhere  in  my  neigh 
borhood  until  I  die.  And  he  will  win  out.  He  will 
be  grinning  when  I  am  dust. 

Also,  as  a  preliminary,  we  attended  a  feast,  where 
one  Taiara  Tamarii,  the  son  of  an  Hawaiian  sailor  who 
deserted  from  a  whaleship,  commemorated  the  death 
of  his  Marquesan  mother  by  roasting  fourteen  whole 
hogs  and  inviting  in  the  village.  So  we  came  along, 
welcomed  by  a  native  herald,  a  young  girl,  who  stood 
on  a  great  rock  and  chanted  the  information  that  the 
banquet  was  made  perfect  by  our  presence  —  which 
information  she  extended  impartially  to  every  arrival. 
Scarcely  were  we  seated,  however,  when  she  changed 
her  tune,  while  the  company  manifested  intense  excite 
ment.  Her  cries  became  eager  and  piercing.  From  a 
distance  came  answering  cries,  in  men's  voices,  which 
blended  into  a  wild,  barbaric  chant  that  sounded  in 
credibly  savage,  smacking  of  blood  and  war.  Then, 
through  vistas  of  tropical  foliage  appeared  a  procession 
of  savages,  naked  save  for  gaudy  loin-cloths.  They 
advanced  slowly,  uttering  deep  gutteral  cries  of 
triumph  and  exaltation.  Slung  from  young  saplings 
carried  on  their  shoulders  were  mysterious  objects  of 
considerable  weight,  hidden  from  view  by  wrappings 
of  green  leaves. 

Nothing  but  pigs,  innocently  fat  and  roasted  to  a  turn, 
were  inside  those  wrappings,  but  the  men  were  carry 
ing  them  into  camp  in  imitation  of  old  times  when 
they  carried  in  "  long-pig."  Now  long-pig  is  not  pig. 
Long-pig  is  the  Polynesian  euphemism  for  human 
flesh ;  and  these  descendants  of  man-eaters,  a  king's 


160      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

son  at  their  head,  brought  in  the  pigs  to  table  as  of 
old  their  grandfathers  had  brought  in  their  slain 
enemies.  Every  now  and  then  the  procession  halted 
in  order  that  the  bearers  should  have  every  advantage 
in  uttering  particularly  ferocious  shouts  of  victory,  of 
contempt  for  their  enemies,  and  of  gustatory  desire. 
So  Melville,  two  generations  ago,  witnessed  the  bodies 
of  slain  Happar  warriors,  wrapped  in  palm-leaves,  car 
ried  to  banquet  at  the  Ti.  At  another  time,  at  the 
Ti,  he  "  observed  a  curiously  carved  vessel  of  wood," 
and  on  looking  into  it  his  eyes  "  fell  upon  the  disor 
dered  members  of  a  human  skeleton,  the  bones  still 
fresh  with  moisture,  and  with  particles  of  flesh  clinging 
to  them  here  and  there." 

Cannibalism  has  often  been  regarded  as  a  fairy  story 
by  ultracivilized  men,  who  dislike,  perhaps,  the  notion 
that  their  own  savage  forebears  have  somewhere  in  the 
past  been  addicted  to  similar  practices.  Captain  Cook 
was  rather  sceptical  upon  the  subject,  until,  one  day, 
in  a  harbor  of  New  Zealand,  he  deliberately  tested  the 
matter.  A  native  happened  to  have  brought  on  board, 
for  sale,  a  nice,  sun-dried  head.  At  Cook's  orders 
strips  of  the  flesh  were  cut  away  and  handed  to  the 
native,  who  greedily  devoured  them.  To  say  the 
least,  Captain  Cook  was  a  rather  thoroughgoing  empiri 
cist.  At  any  rate,  by  that  act  he  supplied  one  ascer 
tained  fact  of  which  science  had  been  badly  in  need. 
Little  did  he  dream  of  the  existence  of  a  certain  group 
of  islands,  thousands  of  miles  away,  where  in  subse 
quent  days  there  would  arise  a  curious  suit  at  law, 
when  an  old  chief  of  Maui  would  be  charged  with 
defamation  of  character  because  he  persisted  in  assert 
ing  that  his  body  was  the  living  repository  of  Captain 


TYPEE  161 

Cook's  great  toe.  It  is  said  that  the  plaintiffs  failed 
to  prove  that  the  old  chief  was  not  the  tomb  of  the 
navigator's  great  toe,  and  that  the  suit  was  dismissed. 

I  suppose  I  shall  not  have  the  chance  in  these 
degenerate  days  to  see  any  long-pig  eaten,  but  at 
least  I  am  already  the  possessor  of  a  duly  certified 
Marquesan  calabash,  oblong  in  shape,  curiously 
carved,  over  a  century  old,  from  which  has  been 
drunk  the  blood  of  two  shipmasters.  One  of  those 
captains  was  a  mean  man.  He  sold  a  decrepit  whale- 
boat,  as  good  as  new  what  of  the  fresh  white  paint, 
to  a  Marquesan  chief.  But  no  sooner  had  the  cap 
tain  sailed  away  than  the  whale-boat  dropped  to  pieces. 
It  was  his  fortune,  some  time  afterward,  to  be  wrecked, 
of  all  places,  on  that  particular  island.  The  Marque 
san  chief  was  ignorant  of  rebates  and  discounts  ;  but  he 
had  a  primitive  sense  of  equity  and  an  equally  primi 
tive  conception  of  the  economy  of  nature,  and  he 
balanced  the  account  by  eating  the  man  who  had 
cheated  him. 

We  started  in  the  cool  dawn  for  Typee,  astride  fero 
cious  little  stallions  that  pawed  and  screamed  and  bit 
and  fought  one  another  quite  oblivious  of  the  fragile 
humans  on  their  backs  and  of  the  slippery  boulders, 
loose  rocks,  and  yawning  gorges.  The  way. led  up  an 
ancient  road  through  a  jungle  of  hau  trees.  On  every 
side  were  the  vestiges  of  a  one-time  dense  population. 
Wherever  the  eye  could  penetrate  the  thick  growth, 
glimpses  were  caught  of  stone  walls  and  of  stone  founda 
tions,  six  to  eight  feet  in  height,  built  solidly  through 
out,  and  many  yards  in  width  and  depth.  They  formed 
great  stone  platforms,  upon  which,  at  one  time,  there 
had  been  houses.  But  the  houses  and  the  people  were 


i6i      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

gone,  and  huge  trees  sank  their  roots  through  the  plat 
forms  and  towered  over  the  under-running  jungle. 
These  foundations  are  called  pae-paes  —  the  pi-pis  of 
Melville,  who  spelled  phonetically. 


The  Tropics  —  after  the  Advent  of  Morality. 

The  Marquesans  of  the  present  generation  lack  the 
energy  to  hoist  and  place  such  huge  stones.  Also,  they 
lack  incentive.  There  are  plenty  of  pae-paes  to  go 
around,  with  a  few  thousand  unoccupied  ones  left  over. 
Once  or  twice,  as  we  ascended  the  valley,  we  saw  magnifi 
cent  pae-paes  bearing  on  their  general  surface  pitiful  little 


TYPEE  163 

straw  huts,  the  proportions  being  similar  to  a  voting  booth 
perched  on  the  broad  foundation  of  the  pyramid  of  Cheops. 
For  the  Marquesans  are  perishing,  and,  to  judge  from 
conditions  at  Taiohae,  the  one  thing  that  retards  their 
destruction  is  the  infusion  of  fresh  blood.  A  pure 
Marquesan  is  a  rarity.  They  seem  to  be  all  half-breeds 
and  strange  conglomerations  of  dozens  of  different  races. 
Nineteen  able  laborers  are  all  the  trader  at  Taiohae 
can  muster  for  the  loading  of  copra  on  shipboard,  and 
in  their  veins  runs  the  blood  of  English,  American, 
Dane,  German,  French,  Corsican,  Spanish,  Portuguese, 
Chinese,  Hawaiian,  Paumotan,  Tahitian,  and  Easter 
I  slander.  There  are  more  races  than  there  are  persons,  but 
it  is  awreckage  of  races  at  best.  Life  faints  and  stumbles 
and  gasps  itself  away.  In  this  warm,  equable  clime  — 
a  truly  terrestrial  paradise  —  where  are  never  extremes 
of  temperature  and  where  the  air  is  like  balm,  kept  ever 
pure  by  the  ozone-laden  southeast  trade,  asthma,  phthisis, 
and  tuberculosis  flourish  as  luxuriantly  as  the  vegeta 
tion.  Everywhere,  from  the  few  grass  huts,  arises  the 
racking  cough  or  exhausted  groan  of  wasted  lungs. 
Other  horrible  diseases  prosper  as  well,  but  the  most 
deadly  of  all  are  those  that  attack  the  lungs.  There  is 
a  form  of  consumption  called  "  galloping,"  which  is 
especially  dreaded.  In  two  months'  time  it  reduces 
the  strongest  man  to  a  skeleton  under  a  grave-cloth. 
In  valley  after  valley  the  last  inhabitant  has  passed  and 
the  fertile  soil  has  relapsed  to  jungle.  In  Melville's 
day  the  valley  of  Hapaa  (spelled  by  him  "  Happar") 
was  peopled  by  a  strong  and  warlike  tribe.  A  genera 
tion  later,  it  contained  but  two  hundred  persons.  To 
day  it  is  an  untenanted,  howling,  tropical  wilderness. 
We  climbed  higher  and  higher  in  the  valley,  our 


164      THE    CRUISE   OF   THE    SNARK 

unshod  stallions  picking  their  steps  on  the  disintegrat 
ing  trail,  which  led  in  and  out  through  the  abandoned 
pae-paes  and  insatiable  jungle.  The  sight  of  red 
mountain  apples,  the  obias,  familiar  to  us  from  Hawaii, 


A  Cocoanut  Grove. 


caused  a  native  to  be  sent  climbing  after  them.  And 
again  he  climbed  for  cocoanuts.  I  have  drunk  the 
cocoanuts  of  Jamaica  and  of  Hawaii,  but  I  never  knew 
how  delicious  such  draught  could  be  till  I  drank  it 
here  in  the  Marquesas.  Occasionally  we  rode  under 
wild  limes  and  oranges  —  great  trees  which  had  survived 


TYPEE  165 

the  wilderness  longer  than  the  motes  of  humans  who 
had  cultivated  them. 

We  rode  through  endless  thickets  of  yellow-pollened 
cassi — if  riding  it  could  be  called;  for  those  fragrant 
thickets  were  inhabited  by  wasps.  And  such  wasps  ! 
Great  yellow  fellows  the  size  of  small  canary  birds, 
darting  through  the  air  with  behind  them  drifting  a 
bunch  of  legs  a  couple  of  inches  long.  A  stallion 
abruptly  stands  on  his  forelegs  and  thrusts  his  hind- 
legs  skyward.  He  withdraws  them  from  the  sky  long 
enough  to  make  one  wild  jump  ahead,  and  then  returns 
them  to  their  index  position.  It  is  nothing.  His 
thick  hide  has  merely  been  punctured  by  a  flaming 
lance  of  wasp  virility.  Then  a  second  and  a  third 
stallion,  and  all  the  stallions,  begin  to  cavort  on  their 
forelegs  over  the  precipitous  landscape.  Swat  !  A 
white-hot  poniard  penetrates  my  cheek.  Swat  again  ! 
I  am  stabbed  in  the  neck.  I  am  bringing  up  the  rear 
and  getting  more  than  my  share.  There  is  no  retreat, 
and  the  plunging  horses  ahead,  on  a  precarious  trail, 
promise  little  safety.  My  horse  overruns  Charmian's 
horse,  and  that  sensitive  creature,  fresh-stung  at  the 
psychological  moment,  planks  one  of  his  hoofs  into  my 
horse  and  the  other  hoof  into  me.  I  thank  my  stars 
that  he  is  not  steel-shod,  and  half-arise  from  the  saddle 
at  the  impact  of  another  flaming  dagger.  I  am  certainly 
getting  more  than  my  share,  and  so  is  my  poor  horse, 
whose  pain  and  panic  are  only  exceeded  by  mine. 

"  Get  out  of  the  way  !  I'm  coming  !  "  I  shout, 
frantically  dashing  my  cap  at  the  winged  vipers  around 
me. 

On  one  side  of  the  trail  the  landscape  rises  straight 
up.  On  the  other  side  it  sinks  straight  down.  The 


i66      THE   CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

only  way  to  get  out  of  my  way  is  to  keep  on  going. 
How  that  string  of  horses  kept  their  feet  is  a  miracle ; 
but  they  dashed  ahead,  over-running  one  another,  gal 
loping,  trotting,  stumbling,  jumping,  scrambling,  and 


The  Camera  in  the  Marquesas. 

kicking  methodically  skyward  every  time  a  wasp  landed 
on  them.  After  a  while  we  drew  breath  and  counted 
our  injuries.  And  this  happened  not  once,  nor  twice, 
but  time  after  time.  Strange  to  say,  it  never  grew 
monotonous.  I  know  that  I,  for  one,  came  through 
each  brush  with  the  undiminished  zest  of  a  man  flying 


TYPEE  167 

from  sudden  death.  No  ;  the  pilgrim  from  Taiohae 
to  Typee  will  never  suffer  from  ennui  on  the  way. 

At  last  we  arose  above  the  vexation  of  wasps.  It 
was  a  matter  of  altitude,  however,  rather  than  of  forti 
tude.  All  about  us  lay  the  jagged  back-bones  of 
ranges,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  thrusting  their  pin 
nacles  into  the  trade-wind  clouds.  Under  us,  from  the 
way  we  had  come,  the  Snark  lay  like  a  tiny  toy  on  the 
calm  water  of  Taiohae  Bay.  Ahead  we  could  see 
the  inshore  indentation  of  Comptroller  Bay.  We 
dropped  down  a  thousand  feet,  and  Typee  lay  beneath 
us.  "  Had  a  glimpse  of  the  gardens  of  paradise  been 
revealed  to  me  I  could  scarcely  have  been  more  ravished 
with  the  sight'*  — so  said  Melville  on  the  moment  of 
his  first  view  of  the  valley.  He  saw  a  garden.  We 
saw  a  wilderness.  Where  were  the  hundred  groves  of 
the  breadfruit  tree  he  saw  ?  We  saw  jungle,  nothing 
but  jungle,  with  the  exception  of  two  grass  huts  and 
several  clumps  of  cocoanuts  breaking  the  primordial 
green  mantle.  Where  wks  the  Ti  of  Mehevi,  the 
bachelors'  hall,  the  palace  where  women  were  taboo, 
and  where  he  ruled  with  his  lesser  chieftains,  keeping 
the  half-dozen  dusty  and  torpid  ancients  to  remind  them 
of  the  valorous  past  ?  From  the  swift  stream  no  sounds 
arose  of  maids  and  matrons  pounding  tapa.  And 
where  was  the  hut  that  old  Narheyo  eternally  builded  ? 
In  vain  I  looked  for  him  perched  ninety  feet  from  the 
ground  in  some  tall  cocoanut,  taking  his  morning  smoke. 

We  went  down  a  zigzag  trail  under  overarching, 
matted  jungle,  where  great  butterflies  drifted  by  in  the 
silence.  No  tattooed  savage  with  club  and  javelin 
guarded  the  path  ;  and  when  we  forded  the  stream,  we 
were  free  to  roam  where  we  pleased.  No  longer  did 


168      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

the  taboo,  sacred  and  merciless,  reign  in  that  sweet  vale. 
Nay,  the  taboo  still  did  reign,  a  new  taboo,  for  when 
we  approached  too  near  the  several  wretched  native 
women,  the  taboo  was  uttered  warningly.  And  it  was 


Under  the  Banana  Tree. 

well.  They  were  lepers.  The  man  who  warned  us  was 
afflicted  horribly  with  elephantiasis.  All  were  suffering 
from  lung  trouble.  The  valley  of  Typee  was  the  abode 
of  death,  and  the  dozen  survivors  of  the  tribe  were 
gasping  feebly  the  last  painful  breaths  of  the  race. 
Certainly  the  battle  had  not  been  to  the  strong,  for 


TYPEE  169 

once  the  Typeans  were  very  strong,  stronger  than  the 
Happars,  stronger  than  the  Taiohaeans,  stronger  than 
all  the  tribes  of  Nuku-hiva.  The  word  "  typee,"  or, 
rather,  "  taipi,"  originally  signified  an  eater  of  human 
flesh.  But  since  all  the  Marquesans  were  human-flesh 
eaters,  to  be  so  designated  was  the  token  that  the 
Typeans  were  the  human-flesh  eaters  par  excellence. 
Not  alone  to  Nuku-hiva  did  the  Typean  reputation  for 
bravery  and  ferocity  extend.  In  all  the  islands  of  the 
Marquesas  the  Typeans  were  named  with  dread. 
Man  could  not  conquer  them.  Even  the  French  fleet 
that  took  possession  of  the  Marquesas  left  the  Typeans 
alone.  Captain  Porter,  of  the  frigate  Essex,  once  in 
vaded  the  valley.  His  sailors  and  marines  were  reen- 
forced  by  two  thousand  warriors  of  Happar  and 
Taiohae.  They  penetrated  quite  a  distance  into  the 
valley,  but  met  with  so  fierce  a  resistance  that  they 
were  glad  to  retreat  and  get  away  in  their  flotilla  of 
boats  and  war-canoes. 

Of  all  inhabitants  of  the  South  Seas,  the  Marquesans 
were  adjudged  the  strongest  and  the  most  beautiful. 
Melville  said  of  them  :  "I  was  especially  struck  by  the 
physical  strength  and  beauty  they  displayed.  ...  In 
beauty  of  form  they  surpassed  anything  I  had  ever 
seen.  Not  a  single  instance  of  natural  deformity  was 
observable  in  all  the  throng  attending  the  revels.  .  .  . 
Every  individual  appeared  free  from  those  blemishes 
which  sometimes  mar  the  effect  of  an  otherwise  perfect 
form.  But  their  physical  excellence  did  not  merely 
consist  in  an  exemption  from  these  evils;  nearly  every 
individual  of  their  number  might  have  been  taken  for 
a  sculptor's  model."  Mendana,  the  discoverer  of  the 
Marquesas,  described  the  natives  as  wondrously  beau- 


THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

tiful  to  behold.  Figueroa,  the  chronicler  of  his  voyage, 
said  of  them  :  "  In  complexion  they  were  nearly  white ; 
of  good  stature  and  finely  formed."  Captain  Cook 
called  the  Marquesans  the  most  splendid  islanders  in 
the  South  Seas.  The  men  were  described  as  "in  al 
most  every  instance  of  lofty  stature,  scarcely  ever  less 
than  six  feet  in  height." 

And  now  all  this  strength  and  beauty  has  departed, 
and  the  valley  of  Typee  is  the  abode  of  some  dozen 
wretched  creatures,  afflicted  ty  leprosy,  elephantiasis, 
and  tuberculo^,  s.  Melville  estimated  the  population 
at  two  thousand,  not  taking  into  consideration  the  small 
adjoining  valley  of  Ho-o-umi.  Life  has  rotted  away  in 
this  wonderful  garden  spot,  where  the  climate  is  as  de 
lightful  and  healthful  as  any  to  be  found  in  the  world. 
Not  alone  were  the  Typeans  physically  magnificent; 
they  were  pure.  Their  air  did  not  contain  the  bacilli 
and  germs  and  microbes  of  disease  that  fill  our  own  air. 
And  when^the  white  men  imported  in  their  ships  these 
various  microorganisms  of  disease,  the  Typeans  crum 
pled  up  and  went  down  before  them. 

When  one  considers  the  situation,  one  is  almost 
driven  to  the  conclusion  that  the  white  race  flourishes 
on  impurity  and  corruption.  Natural  selection,  how 
ever,  gives  the  explanation.  We  of  the  white  race  are 
the  survivors  and  the  descendants  of  the  thousands  of 
generations  of  survivors  in  the  war  with  the  micro 
organisms.  Whenever  one  of  us  was  born  with  a  con 
stitution  peculiarly  receptive  to  these  minute  enemies, 
such  a  one  promptly  died.  Only  these  of  us  survived 
who  could  withstand  them.  We  who  are  alive  are  the 
immune,  the  fit  —  the  ones  best  constituted  to  live  in 
a  world  of  hostile  microorganisms.  The  poor  Marque- 


TYPEE 


sans  had  undergone  no  such  selection.  'They  were  not 
immune.  And  they,  who  had  made  a  custom  of  eat 
ing  their  enemies,  were  now  eaten  by  enemies  so  micro 
scopic  as  to  be  invisible,  and  against  whom  no  war  of 


Behind  the  Bulwark  of  the  Reef. 

dart  and  javelin  was  possible.  On  the  other  hand,  had 
there  been  a  few  hundred  thousand  Marquesans  to  be 
gin  with,  there  might  have  been  sufficient  survivors  to 
lay  the  foundation  for  a  new  race  —  a  regenerated  race, 
if  a  plunge  into  a  festering  bath  of  organic  poison  can 
be  called  regeneration. 


172      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

We  unsaddled  our  horses  for  lunch,  and  after  we 
had  fought  the  stallions  apart  —  mine  with  several 
fresh  chunks  bitten  out  of  his  back  —  and  after  we  had 
vainly  fought  the  sand-flies,  we  ate  bananas  and  tinned 
meats,  washed  down  by  generous  draughts  of  cocoanut 
milk.  There  was  little  to  be  seen.  The  jungle  had 
rushed  back  and  engulfed  the  puny  works  of  man. 
Here  and  there  pai-pais  were  to  be  stumbled  upon,  but 
there  were  no  inscriptions,  no  hieroglyphics,  no  clews 
to  the  past  they  attested  —  only  dumb  stones,  builded 
and  carved  by  hands  that  were  forgotten  dust.  Out 
of  the  pai-pais  grew  great  trees,  jealous  of  the  wrought 
work  of  man,  splitting  and  scattering  the  stones  back 
into  the  primeval  chaos. 

We  gave  up  the  jungle  and  sought  the  stream  with 
the  idea  of  evading  the  sand-flies.  Vain  hope  !  To 
go  in  swimming  one  must  take  off  his  clothes.  The 
sand-flies  are  aware  of  the  fact,  and  they  lurk  by  the 
river  bank  in  countless  myriads.  In  the  native  they 
are  called  the  nau-nau,  which  is  pronounced  "  now- 
now."  They  are  certainly  well  named,  for  they  are 
the  insistent  present.  There  is  no  past  nor  future 
when  they  fasten  upon  one's  epidermis,  and  I  am  willing 
to  wager  that  Omar  Khayyam  could  never  have  written 
the  Rubaiyat  in  the  valley  of  Typee  —  it  would  have 
been  psychologically  impossible.  I  made  the  strategic 
mistake  of  undressing  on  the  edge  of  a  steep  bank  where 
I  could  dive  in  but  could  not  climb  out.  When  I  was 
ready  to  dress,  I  had  a  hundred  yards'  walk  on  the 
bank  before  I  could  reach  my  clothes.  At  the  first 
step,  fully  ten  thousand  nau-naus  landed  upon  me. 
At  the  second  step  I  was  walking  in  a  cloud.  By  the 
third  step  the  sun  was  dimmed  in  the  sky.  After  that 


TYPEE  173 

I  don't  know  what  happened.  When  I  arrived  at  my 
clothes,  I  was  a  maniac.  And  here  enters  my  grand 
tactical  error.  There  is  only  one  rule  of  conduct  in 
dealing  with  nau-naus.  Never  swat  them.  Whatever 
you  do,  don't  swat  them.  They  are  so  vicious  that  in 
the  instant  of  annihilation  they  eject  their  last  atom 
of  poison  into  your  carcass.  You  must  pluck  them 
delicately,  between  thumb  and  forefinger,  and  persuade 
them  gently  to  remove  their  proboscides  from  your 
quivering  flesh.  It  is  like  pulling  teeth.  But  the 
difficulty  was  that  the  teeth  sprouted  faster  than  I  could 
pull  them,  so  I  swatted,  and,  so  doing,  filled  myself 
full  with  their  poison.  This  was  a  week  ago.  At  the 
present  moment  I  resemble  a  sadly  neglected  smallpox 
convalescent. 

Ho-o-u-mi  is  a  small  valley,  separated  from  Typee 
by  a  low  ridge,  and  thither  we  started  when  we  had 
knocked  our  indomitable  and  insatiable  riding-animals 
into  submission.  As  it  was,  Warren's  mount,  after 
a  mile  run,  selected  the  most  dangerous  part  of 
the  trail  for  an  exhibition  that  kept  us  all  on  the 
anxious  seat  for  fully  five  minutes.  We  rode  by  the 
mouth  of  Typee  valley  and  gazed  down  upon  the  beach 
from  which  Melville  escaped.  There  was  where  the 
whale-boat  lay  on  its  oars  close  in  to  the  surf;  and 
there  was  where  Karakoee,  the  taboo  Kanaka,  stood  in 
the  water  and  trafficked  for  the  sailor's  life.  There, 
surely,  was  where  Melville  gave  Fayaway  the  parting 
embrace  ere  he  dashed  for  the  boat.  And  there  was 
the  point  of  land  from  which  Mehevi  and  Mow-mow 
and  their  following  swam  oflf  to  intercept  the  boat,  only 
to  have  their  wrists  gashed  by  sheath-knives  when 
they  laid  hold  of  the  gunwale,  though  it  was  reserved 


174      THE   CRUISE   OF   THE   SNARK 


for   Mow-mow  to    receive    the  boat-hook  full  in  the 
throat  from  Melville's  hands. 

We  rode  on  to  Ho-o-u-mi.     So  closely  was  Mel 
ville  guarded  that  he  never  dreamed  of  the  existence 


- 1 


One  of  the  Last  of  a  Mighty  Race. 


of  this  valley,  though  he  must  continually  have  met  its 
inhabitants,  for  they  belonged  to  Typee.  We  rode 
through  the  same  abandoned  pae-paes,  but  as  we  neared 
the  sea  we  found  a  profusion  of  cocoanuts,  breadfruit 
trees,  and  taro  patches,  and  fully  a  dozen  grass  dwell 
ings.  In  one  of  these  we  arranged  to  pass  the  night, 


TYPEE  175 

and  preparations  were  immediately  put  on  foot  for  a 
feast.  A  young  pig  was  promptly  despatched,  and 
while  he  was  being  roasted  among  hot  stones,  and  while 
chickens  were  stewing  in  cocoanut  milk,  I  persuaded 
one  of  the  cooks  to  climb  an  unusually  tall  cocoanut 
palm.  The  cluster  of  nuts  at  the  top  was  fully  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  from  the  ground,  but 
that  native  strode  up  to  the  tree,  seized  it  in  both 
hands,  jack-knived  at  the  waist  so  that  the  soles  of  his 
feet  rested  flatly  against  the  trunk,  and  then  he  walked 
right  straight  up  "without  stopping.  There  were  no 
notches  in  the  tree.  He  had  no  ropes  to  help  him. 
He  merely  walked  up  the  tree,  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  feet  in  the  air,  and  cast  down  the  nuts  from 
the  summit.  Not  every  man  there  had  the  physical 
stamina  for  such  a  feat,  or  the  lungs,  rather,  for  most 
of  them  were  coughing  their  lives  away.  Some  of  the 
women  kept  up  a  ceaseless  moaning  and  groaning,  so 
badly  were  their  lungs  wasted.  Very  few  of  either  sex 
were  full-blooded  Marquesans.  They  were  mostly 
half-breeds  and  three-quarter-breeds  of  French,  Eng 
lish,  Danish,  and  Chinese  extraction.  At  the  best, 
these  infusions  of  fresh  blood  merely  delayed  the  pass 
ing,  and  the  results  led  one  to  wonder  whether  it  was 
worth  while. 

The  feast  was  served  on  a  broad  pae-pae,  the  rear 
portion  of  which  was  occupied  by  the  house  in  which 
we  were  to  sleep.  The  first  course  was  raw  fish  and 
poi-poi,  the  latter  sharp  and  more  acrid  of  taste  than 
the  poi  of  Hawaii,  which  is  made  from  taro.  The 
poi-poi  of  the  Marquesas  is  made  from  breadfruit. 
The  ripe  fruit,  after  the  core  is  removed,  is  placed  in  a 
calabash  and  pounded  with  a  stone  pestle  into  a  stiff, 


i76 


THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


TYPEE  177 

sticky  paste.  In  this  stage  of  the  process,  wrapped  in 
leaves,  it  can  be  buried  in  the  ground  where  it  will 
keep  for  years.  Before  it  can  be  eaten,  however, 
further  processes  are  necessary.  A  leaf-covered  pack 
age  is  placed  among  hot  stones,  like  the  pig,  and 
thoroughly  baked.  After  that  it  is  mixed  with  cold 
water  and  thinned  out  —  not  thin  enough  to  run,  but 
thin  enough  to  be  eaten  by  sticking  one's  first  and 
second  fingers  into  it.  On  close  acquaintance  it  proves 
a  pleasant  and  most  healthful  food.  And  breadfruit, 
ripe  and  well  boiled  or  roasted  !  It  is  delicious. 
Breadfruit  and  taro  are  kingly  vegetables,  the  pair  of 
them,  though  the  former  is  patently  a  misnomer  and 
more  resembles  a  sweet  potato  then  anything  else, 
though  it  is  not  mealy  like  a  sweet  potato,  nor  is  it  so 
sweet. 

The  feast  ended,  we  watched  the  moon  rise  over 
Typee.  The  air  was  like  balm,  faintly  scented  with 
the  breath  of  flowers.  It  was  a  magic  night,  deathly 
still,  without  the  slightest  breeze  to  stir  the  foliage ; 
and  one  caught  one's  breath  and  felt  the  pang  that  is 
almost  hurt,  so  exquisite  was  the  beauty  of  it.  Faint 
and  far  could  be  heard  the  thin  thunder  of  the  surf 
upon  the  beach.  There  were  no  beds  ;  and  we  drowsed 
and  slept  wherever  we  thought  the  floor  softest.  Near 
by,  a  woman  panted  and  moaned  in  her  sleep,  and  all 
about  us  the  dying  islanders  coughed  in  the  night. 


CHAPTER   XI 

The  Nature  Man 

I  FIRST  met  him  on  Market  Street  in  San  Francisco. 
It  was  a  wet  and  drizzly  afternoon,  and  he  was  strid 
ing  along,  clad  solely  in  a  pair  of  abbreviated  knee- 
trousers  and  an  abbreviated  shirt,  his  bare  feet  going 
slick-slick  through  the  pavement-slush.  At  his  heels 
trooped  a  score-  of  excited  gamins.  Every  head  —  and 
there  were  thousands  —  turned  to  glance  curiously  at 
him  as  he  went  by.  And  I  turned,  too.  Never  had  I 
seen  such  lovely  sunburn.  He  was  all  sunburn,  of  the 
sort  a  blond  takes  on  when  his  skin  does  not  peel. 
His  long  yellow  hair  was  burnt,  so  was  his  beard,  which 
sprang  from  a  soil  unploughed  by  any  razor.  He  was 
a  tawny  man,  a  golden-tawny  man,  all  glowing  and 
radiant  with  the  sun.  Another  prophet,  thought  I, 
come  up  to  town  with  a  message  that  will  save  the 
world. 

A  few  weeks  later  I  was  with  some  friends  in  their 
bungalow  in  the  Piedmont  hills  overlooking  San 
Francisco  Bay.  "We've  got  him,  we've  got  him," 
they  barked.  "  We  caught  him  up  a  tree  ;  but  he's  all 
right  now,  he'll  feed  from  the  hand.  Come  on  and  see 
him."  So  I  accompanied  them  up  a  dizzy  hill,  and  in 
a  rickety  shack  in  the  midst  of  a  eucalyptus  grove 
found  my  sunburned  prophet  of  the  city  pavements. 

He  hastened  to  meet  us,  arriving  in  the  whirl  and 
blur  of  a  handspring.  He  did  not  shake  hands  with 
us  ;  instead,  his  greeting  took  the  form  of  stunts.  He 

178 


THE    NATURE    MAN  179 

turned  more  handsprings.  He  twisted  his  body  sinu 
ously,  like  a  snake,  until,  having  sufficiently  limbered 
up,  he  bent  from  the  hips,  and,  with  legs  straight  and 
knees  touching,  beat  a  tattoo  on  the  ground  with  the 
palms  of  his  hands.  He  whirligigged  and  pirouetted, 
dancing  and  cavorting  round  like  an  inebriated  ape. 
All  the  sun-warmth  of  his  ardent  life  beamed  in  his  face. 
I  am  so  happy,  was  the  song  without  words  he  sang. 

He  sang  it  all  evening,  ringing  the  changes  on  it 
with  an  endless  variety  of  stunts.  "  A  fool  !  a  fool !  I 
met  a  fool  in  the  forest !  "  thought  I.  And  a  worthy 
fool  he  proved.  Between  handsprings  and  whirligigs 
he  delivered  his  message  that  would  save  the  world. 
It  was  twofold.  First,  let  suffering  humanity  strip 
off  its  clothing  and  run  wild  in  the  mountains  and 
valleys ;  and,  second,  let  the  very  miserable  world 
adopt  phonetic  spelling.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
great  social  problems  being  settled  by  the  city  popu 
lations  swarming  naked  over  the  landscape,  to  the 
popping  of  shot-guns,  the  barking  of  ranch-dogs, 
and  countless  assaults  with  pitchforks  wielded  by  irate 
farmers. 

The  years  passed,  and,  one  sunny  morning,  the 
Snark  poked  her  nose  into  a  narrow  opening  in  a  reef 
that  smoked  with  the  crashing  impact  of  the  trade-wind 
swell,  and  beat  slowly  up  Papeete  harbor.  Coming 
off  to  us  was  a  boat,  flying  a  yellow  flag.  We  knew 
it  contained  the  port  doctor.  But  quite  a  distance  ofT, 
in  its  wake,  was  a  tiny  outrigger  canoe  that  puzzled 
us.  It  was  flying  a  red  flag.  I  studied  it  through  the 
glasses,  fearing  that  it  marked  some  hidden  danger  to 
navigation,  some  recent  wreck  or  some  buoy  or  beacon 
that  had  been  swept  away.  Then  the  doctor  came  on 


i8o      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

board.  After  he  had  examined  the  state  of  our  health 
and  been  assured  that  we  had  no  live  rats  hidden  away 
in  the  Snark,  I  asked  him  the  meaning  of  the  red  flag. 
"  Oh,  that  is  Darling,"  was  the  answer. 

And  then   Darling,  Ernest  Darling,  flying  the  red 
flag   that   is   indicative    of  the    brotherhood    of   man, 


The  Nature  Man  comes  on  Board  the  Snark. 

hailed  us.  "Hello,  Jack!"  he  called.  "Hello, 
Charmian  ! "  He  paddled  swiftly  nearer,  and  I  saw 
that  he  was  the  tawny  prophet  of  the  Piedmont  hills. 
He  came  over  the  side,  a  sun-god  clad  in  a  scarlet 
loin-cloth,  with  presents  of  Arcady  and  greeting  in 
both  his  hands  —  a  bottle  of  golden  honey  and  a  leaf- 
basket  filled  with  great  golden  mangoes,  golden  bananas 


THE    NATURE    MAN  181 

specked  with  freckles  of  deeper  gold,  golden  pine 
apples  and  golden  limes,  and  juicy  oranges  minted  from 
the  same  precious  ore  of  sun  and  soil.  And  in  this 
fashion,  under  the  southern  sky,  I  met  once  more 
Darling,  the  Nature  Man. 

Tahiti  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  the 
world,  inhabited  by  thieves  and  robbers  and  liars,  also 
by  several  honest  and  truthful  men  and  women. 
Wherefore,  because  of  the  blight  cast  upon  Tahiti's 
wonderful  beauty  by  the  spidery  human  vermin  that 
infest  it,  I  am  minded  to  write,  not  of  Tahiti,  but  of 
the  Nature  Man.  He,  at  least,  is  refreshing  and 
wholesome.  The  spirit  that  emanates  from  him  is  so 
gentle  and  sweet  that  it  would  harm  nothing,  hurt  no 
body's  feelings  save  the  feelings  of  a  predatory  and 
plutocratic  capitalist. 

"  What  does  this  red  flag  mean  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  Socialism,  of  course." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know  that,"  I  went  on;  "but  what 
does  it  mean  in  your  hands  ?  " 

"Why,  that  I've  found  my  message." 

"  And  that  you  are  delivering  it  to  Tahiti  ?  "  I  de 
manded  incredulously. 

"  Sure,"  he  answered  simply  ;  and  later  on  I  found 
that  he  was,  too. 

When  we  dropped  anchor,  lowered  a  small  boat  into 
the  water,  and  started  ashore,  the  Nature  Man  joined  us. 
Now,  thought  I,  I  shall  be  pestered  to  death  by  this 
crank.  Waking  or  sleeping  I  shall  never  be  quit  of  him 
until  I  sail  away  from  here. 

But  never  in  my  life  was  I  more  mistaken.  I  took 
a  house  and  went  to  live  and  work  in  it,  and  the  Na 
ture  Man  never  came  near  me.  He  was  waiting  for 


182      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

the  invitation.  In  the  meantime  he  went  aboard  the 
Snark  and  took  possession  of  her  library,  delighted  by 
the  quantity  of  scientific  books,  and  shocked,  as  I 
learned  afterward,  by  the  inordinate  amount  of  fiction. 
The  Nature  Man  never  wastes  time  on  fiction. 

After  a  week  or  so,  my  conscience  smote  me,  and  I 
invited  him  to  dinner  at  a  downtown  hotel.  He  arrived, 
looking  unwontedly  stiff  and  uncomfortable  in  a  cotton 
jacket.  When  invited  to  peel  it  off,  he  beamed  his 
gratitude  and  joy,  and  did  so,  revealing  his  sun-gold 
skin,  from  waist  to  shoulder,  covered  only  by  a  piece 
of  fish-net  of  coarse  twine  and  large  of  mesh.  A  scar 
let  loin-cloth  completed  his  costume.  I  began  my 
acquaintance  with  him  that  night,  and  during  my  long 
stay  in  Tahiti  that  acquaintance  ripened  into  friendship. 

"  So  you  write  books,"  he  said,  one  day  when,  tired 
and  sweaty,  I  finished  my  morning's  work. 

"  I,  too,  write  books,"  he  announced. 

Aha,  thought  I,  now  at  last  is  he  going  to  pester  me 
with  his  literary  efforts.  My  soul  was  in  revolt.  I 
had  not  come  all  the  way  to  the  South  Seas  to  be  a  lit 
erary  bureau. 

"  This  is  the  book  I  write,"  he  explained,  smashing 
himself  a  resounding  blow  on  the  chest  with  his  clenched 
fist.  "  The  gorilla  in  the  African  jungle  pounds  his 
chest  till  the  noise  of  it  can  be  heard  half  a  mile  away." 

"A  pretty  good  chest,"  quoth  I,  admiringly;  "it 
would  even  make  a  gorilla  envious." 

And  then,  and  later,  I  learned  the  details  of  the 
marvellous  book  Ernest  Darling  had  written.  Twelve 
years  ago  he  lay  close  to  death.  He  weighed  but 
ninety  pounds,  and  was  too  weak  to  speak.  The  doc 
tors  had  given  him  up.  His  father,  a  practicing  physi- 


THE    NATURE    MAN  183 

cian,  had  given  him  up.  Consultations  with  other 
physicians  had  been  held  upon  him.  There  was  no 
hope  for  him.  Overstudy  (as  a  school-teacher  and  as 
a  university  student)  and  two  successive  attacks  of 
pneumonia  were  responsible  for  his  breakdown.  Day 
by  day  he  was  losing  strength.  He  could  extract  no 
nutrition  from  the  heavy  foods  they  gave  him ;  nor 
could  pellets  and  powders  help  his  stomach  to  do  the 
work  of  digestion.  Not  only  was  he  a  physical  wreck, 
but  he  was  a  mental  wreck.  His  mind  was  overwrought. 
He  was  sick  and  tired  of  medicine,  and  he  was  sick  and 
tired  of  persons.  Human  speech  jarred  upon  him. 
Human  attentions  drove  him  frantic.  The  thought 
came  to  him  that  since  he  was  going  to  die,  he  might 
as  well  die  in  the  open,  away  from  all  the  bother  and 
irritation.  And  behind  this  idea  lurked  a  sneaking  idea 
that  perhaps  he  would  not  die  after  all  if  only  he  could 
escape  from  the  heavy  foods,  the  medicines,  and  the 
well-intentioned  persons  who  made  him  frantic. 

So  Ernest  Darling,  a  bag  of  bones  and  a  death's- 
head,  a  perambulating  corpse,  with  just  the  dimmest 
flutter  of  life  in  it  to  make  it  perambulate,  turned  his 
back  upon  men  and  the  habitations  of  men  and  dragged 
himself  for  five  miles  through  the  brush,  away  from  the 
city  of  Portland,  Oregon.  Of  course  he  was  crazy. 
Only  a  lunatic  would  drag  himself  out  of  his  death-bed. 

But  in  the  brush,  Darling  found  what  he  was  look 
ing  for  —  rest.  Nobody  bothered  him  with  beefsteaks 
and  pork.  No  physicians  lacerated  his  tired  nerves  by 
feeling  his  pulse,  nor  tormented  his  tired  stomach  with 
pellets  and  powders.  He  began  to  feel  soothed.  The 
sun  was  shining  warm,  and  he  basked  in  it.  He  had 
the  feeling  that  the  sunshine  was  an  elixir  of  health. 


184      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

Then  it  seemed  to  him  that  his  whole  wasted  wreck  of 
a  body  was  crying  for  the  sun.  He  stripped  off  his 
clothes  and  bathed  in  the  sunshine.  He  felt  better. 
It  had  done  him  good  —  the  first  relief  in  weary  months 
of  pain. 

As  he  grew  better,  he  sat  up  and  began  to  take  no 
tice.  All  about  him  were  the  birds  fluttering  and  chirp 
ing,  the  squirrels  chattering  and  playing.  He  envied 
them  their  health  and  spirits,  their  happy,  care-free  ex 
istence.  That  he  should  contrast  their  condition  with 
his  was  inevitable  ;  and  that  he  should  question  why 
they  were  splendidly  vigorous  while  he  was  a  feeble, 
dying  wraith  of  a  man,  was  likewise  inevitable.  His  con 
clusion  was  the  very  obvious  one,  namely,  that  they  lived 
naturally,  while  he  lived  most  unnaturally  ;  therefore,  if 
he  intended  to  live,  he  must  return  to  nature. 

Alone,  there  in  the  brush,  he  worked  out  his  prob 
lem  and  began  to  apply  it.  He  stripped  off  his  cloth 
ing  and  leaped  and  gambolled  about,  running  on  all  fours, 
climbing  trees;  in  short,  doing  physical  stunts, — and  all 
the  time  soaking  in  the  sunshine.  He  imitated  the 
animals.  He  built  a  nest  of  dry  leaves  and  grasses  in 
which  to  sleep  at  night,  covering  it  over  with  bark  as 
a  protection  against  the  early  fall  rains.  "  Here  is  a 
beautiful  exercise,"  he  told  me,  once,  flapping  his  arms 
mightily  against  his  sides  ;  "  I  learned  it  from  watching 
the  roosters  crow."  Another  time  I  remarked  the 
loud,  sucking  intake  with  which  he  drank  cocoanut- 
milk.  He  explained  that  he  had  noticed  the  cows 
drinking  that  way  and  concluded  there  must  be  some 
thing  in  it.  He  tried  it  and  found  it  good,  and  there 
after  he  drank  only  in  that  fashion. 

He  noted  that  the  squirrels  lived  on  fruits  and  nuts. 


THE    NATURE    MAN 


185 


The  Abbreviated  Fish-net  Shirt. 


He  started  on  a  fruit-and-nut  diet,  helped  out  by  bread, 
and  he  grew  stronger  and  put  on  weight.  For  three 
months  he  continued  his  primordial  existence  in  the 
brush,  and  then  the  heavy  Oregon  rains  drove  him 


186      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

back  to  the  habitations  of  men.  Not  in  three  months 
could  a  ninety-pound  survivor  of  two  attacks  of  pneu 
monia  develop  sufficient  ruggedness  to  live  through  an 
Oregon  winter  in  the  open. 

He  had  accomplished  much,  but  he  had  been  driven 
in.  There  was  no  place  to  go  but  back  to  his  father's 
house,  and  there,  living  in  close  rooms  with  lungs  that 
panted  for  all  the  air  of  the  open  sky,  he  was  brought 
down  by  a  third  attack  of  pneumonia.  He  grew  weaker 
even  than  before.  In  that  tottering  tabernacle  of  flesh, 
his  brain  collapsed.  He  lay  like  a  corpse,  too  weak  to 
stand  the  fatigue  of  speaking,  too  irritated  and  tired  in 
his  miserable  brain  to  care  to  listen  to  the  speech  of 
others.  The  only  act  of  will  of  which  he  was  capable 
was  to  stick  his  fingers  in  his  ears  and  resolutely  to  re 
fuse  to  hear  a  single  word  that  was  spoken  to  him. 
They  sent  for  the  insanity  experts.  He  was  adjudged 
insane,  and  also  the  verdict  was  given  that  he  would 
not  live  a  month. 

By  one  such  mental  expert  he  was  carted  off  to  a 
sanitarium  on  Mt.  Tabor.  Here,  when  they  learned 
that  he  was  harmless,  they  gave  him  his  own  way. 
They  no  longer  dictated  as  to  the  food  he  ate,  so  he 
resumed  his  fruits  and  nuts  —  olive  oil,  peanut  butter, 
and  bananas  the  chief  articles  of  his  diet.  As  he  re 
gained  his  strength  he  made  up  his  mind  to  live  thence 
forth  his  own  life.  If  he  lived  like  others,  according 
to  social  conventions,  he  would  surely  die.  And  he 
did  not  want  to  die.  The  fear  of  death  was  one  of  the 
strongest  factors  in  the  genesis  of  the  Nature  Man. 
To  live,  he  must  have  a  natural  diet,  the  open  air,  and 
the  blessed  sunshine. 

Now  an  Oregon  winter  has  no  inducements  for  those 


THE    NATURE    MAN  187 

who  wish  to  return  to  Nature,  so  Darling  started  out 
in  search  of  a  climate.  He  mounted  a  bicycle  and 
headed  south  for  the  sunlands.  Stanford  University 
claimed  him  for  a  year.  Here  he  studied  and  worked 
his  way,  attending  lectures  in  as  scant  garb  as  the  au 
thorities  would  allow  and  applying  as  much  as  possible 
the  principles  of  living  that  he  had  learned  in  squirrel- 
town.  His  favorite  method  of  study  was  to  go  off  in 
the  hills  back  of  the  University,  and  there  to  strip  off 
his  clothes  and  lie  on  the  grass,  soaking  in  sunshine  and. 
health  at  the  same  time  that  he  soaked  in  knowledge. 

But  Central  California  has  her  winters,  and  the  quest 
for  a  Nature  Man's  climate  drew  him  on.  He  tried  Los 
Angeles  and  Southern  California,  being  arrested  a  few 
times  and  brought  before  the  insanity  commissions  be 
cause,  forsooth,  his  mode  of  life  was  not  modelled  after 
the  mode  of  life  of  his  fellow-men.  He  tried  Hawaii^ 
where,  unable  to  prove  him  insane,  the  authorities  de 
ported  him.  It  was  not  exactly  a  deportation.  He 
could  have  remained  by  serving  a  year  in  prison.  They 
gave  him  his  choice.  Now  prison  is  death  to  the  Na 
ture  Man,  who  thrives  only  in  the  open  air  and  in  God's 
sunshine.  The  authorities  of  Hawaii  are  not  to  be 
blamed.  Darling  was  an  undesirable  citizen.  Any 
man  is  undesirable  who  disagrees  with  one.  And  that 
any  man  should  disagree  to  the  extent  Darling  did  in 
his  philosophy  of  the  simple  life  is  ample  vindication 
of  the  Hawaiian  authorities'  verdict  of  his  undesirable- 
ness. 

So  Darling  went  thence  in  search  of  a  climate  which 
would  not  only  be  desirable,  but  wherein  he  would  not 
be  undesirable.  And  he  found  it,  in  Tahiti,  the  garden- 
spot  of  garden-spots.  And  so  it  was,  according  to  the 


i88      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


The  Nature  Man's  Plantation. 


THE    NATURE    MAN  189 

narrative  as  given,  that  he  wrote  the  pages  of  his  book. 
He  wears  only  a  loin-cloth  and  a  sleeveless  fish-net 
shirt.  His  stripped  weight  is  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  pounds.  His  health  is  perfect.  His  eyesight, 
that  at  one  time  was  considered  ruined,  is  excellent. 
The  lungs  that  were  practically  destroyed  by  three  at 
tacks  of  pneumonia,  have  not  only  recovered,  but  are 
stronger  than  ever  before. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  first  time,  while  talking  to 
me,  that  he  squashed  a  mosquito.  The  stinging  pest 
had  settled  in  the  middle  of  his  back  between  his 
shoulders.  Without  interrupting  the  flow  of  conver 
sation,  without  dropping  even  a  syllable,  his  clenched 
fist  shot  up  in  the  air,  curved  backward,  and  smote  his 
back  between  the  shoulders,  killing  the  mosquito  and 
making  his  frame  resound  like  a  bass  drum.  It  re 
minded  me  of  nothing  so  much  as  of  horses  kicking 
the  woodwork  in  their  stalls. 

"  The  gorilla  in  the  African  jungle  pounds  his  chest 
until  the  noise  of  it  can  be  heard  half  a  mile  away,"  he 
will  announce  suddenly,  and  thereat  beat  a  hair-raising, 
devil's  tattoo  on  his  own  chest. 

One  day  he  noticed  a  set  of  boxing-gloves  hanging 
on  the  wall,  and  promptly  his  eyes  brightened. 

"  Do  you  box  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  used  to  give  lessons  in  boxing  when  I  was  at 
Stanford,"  was  the  reply. 

And  there  and  then  we  stripped  and  put  on  the 
gloves.  Bang  !  a  long,  gorilla  arm  flashed  out,  land 
ing  the  gloved  end  on  my  nose.  Biff!  he  caught  me, 
in  a  duck,  on  the  side  of  the  head,  nearly  knocking 
me  over  sidewise.  I  carried  the  lump  raised  by  that 
blow  for  a  week.  I  ducked  under  a  straight  left,  and 


i9o      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

landed  a  straight  right  on  his  stomach.  It  was  a  fear 
ful  blow.  The  whole  weight  of  my  body  was  behind 
it,  and  his  body  had  been  met  as  it  lunged  forward.  I 
looked  for  him  to  crumple  up  and  go  down.  Instead 
of  which  his  face  beamed  approval,  and  he  said,  "  That 
was  beautiful.  "  The  next  instant  I  was  covering  up 
and  striving  to  protect  myself  from  a  hurricane  of 
hooks,  jolts,  and  uppercuts.  Then  I  watched  my 
chance  and  drove  in  for  the  solar  plexus.  I  hit  the 
mark.  The  Nature  Man  dropped  his  arms,  gasped, 
and  sat  down  suddenly. 

"  I'll  be  all  right,"  he  said.     "Just  wait  a  moment." 

And  inside  thirty  seconds  he  was  on  his  feet  —  ay, 
and  returning  the  compliment,  for  he  hooked  me  in 
the  solar  plexus,  and  I  gasped,  dropped  my  hands, 
and  sat  down  just  a  trifle  more  suddenly  than  he  had. 

All  of  which  I  submit  as  evidence  that  the  man  I 
boxed  with  was  a  totally  different  man  from  the  poor, 
ninety-pound  wight  of  eight  years  before,  who,  given 
up  by  physicians  and  alienists,  lay  gasping  his  life 
away  in  a  closed  room  in  Portland,  Oregon.  The 
book  that  Ernest  Darling  has  written  is  a  good  book, 
and  the  binding  is  good,  too. 

Hawaii  has  wailed  for  years  her  need  for  desirable 
immigrants.  She  has  spent  much  time,  and  thought, 
and  money,  in  importing  desirable  citizens,  and  she 
has,  as  yet,  nothing  much  to  show  for  it.  Yet  Hawaii 
deported  the  Nature  Man.  She  refused  to  give  him  a 
chance.  So  it  is,  to  chasten  Hawaii's  proud  spirit, 
that  I  take  this  opportunity  to  show  her  what  she  has 
lost  in  the  Nature  Man.  When  he  arrived  in  Tahiti, 
he  proceeded  to  seek  out  a  piece  of  land  on  which  to 
grow  the  food  he  ate,,  But  land  was  difficult  to  find 


THE    NATURE    MAN  191 

—  that  is,  inexpensive  land.  The  Nature  Man  was 
not  rolling  in  wealth.  He  spent  weeks  in  wandering 
over  the  steep  hills,  until,  high  up  the  mountain,  where 
clustered  several  tiny  canyons,  he  found  eighty  acres 
of  brush-jungle  which  were  apparently  unrecorded  as 
the  property  of  any  one.  The  government  officials 
told  him  that  if  he  would  clear  the  land  and  till  it  for 
thirty  years  he  would  be  given  a  title  for  it. 

Immediately  he  set  to  work.  And  never  was  there 
such  work.  Nobody  farmed  that  high  up.  The  land 
was  covered  with  matted  jungle  and  overrun  by  wild 
pigs  and  countless  rats.  The  view  of  Papeete  and  the 
sea  was  magnificent,  but  the  outlook  was  not  encourag 
ing.  He  spent  weeks  in  building  a  road  in  order  to 
make  the  plantation  accessible.  The  pigs  and  the  rats 
ate  up  whatever  he  planted  as  fast  as  it  sprouted.  He 
shot  the  pigs  and  trapped  the  rats.  Of  the  latter,  in 
two  weeks  he  caught  fifteen  hundred.  Everything  had 
to  be  carried  up  on  his  back.  He  usually  did  his 
packhorse  work  at  night. 

Gradually  he  began  to  win  out.  A  grass-walled 
house  was  built.  On  the  fertile,  volcanic  soil  he  had 
wrested  from  the  jungle  and  jungle  beasts,  were  grow 
ing  five  hundred  cocoanut  trees,  five  hundred  papaia 
trees,  three  hundred  mango  trees,  many  breadfruit  trees 
and  alligator-pear  trees,  to  say  nothing  of  vines,  bushes, 
and  vegetables.  He  developed  the  drip  of  the  hills  in 
the  canyons  and  worked  out  an  efficient  irrigation 
scheme,  ditching  the  water  from  canyon  to  canyon  and 
paralleling  the  ditches  at  different  altitudes.  His  nar 
row  canyons  became  botanical  gardens.  The  arid 
shoulders  of  the  hills,  where  formerly  the  blazing  sun 
had  parched  the  jungle  and  beaten  it  close  to  earth, 


192      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

blossomed  into  trees  and  shrubs  and  flowers.  Not 
only  had  the  Nature  Man  become  self-supporting,  but 
he  was  now  a  prosperous  agriculturist  with  produce  to 
sell  to  the  city-dwellers  of  Papeete. 

Then  it  was  discovered  that  his  land,  which  the  gov 
ernment  officials    had   informed  him   was   without   an 


In  the  Sweat  of  His  Brow. 

owner,  really  had  an  owner,  and  that  deeds,  descrip 
tions,  etc.,  were  on  record.  All  his  work  bade  fare  to 
be  lost.  The  land  had  been  valueless  when  he  took  it 
up,  and  the  owner,  a  large  landholder,  was  unaware  of 
the  extent  to  which  the  Nature  Man  had  developed  it. 
A  just  price  was  agreed  upon,  and  Darling's  deed  was 
officially  filed. 


THE    NATURE    MAN  193 

Next  came  a  more  crushing  blow.  Darling's  access 
to  market  was  destroyed.  The  road  he  had  built 
was  fenced  across  by  triple  barb-wire  fences.  It  was 
one  of  those  jumbles  in  human  affairs  that  is  so  com 
mon  in  this  absurdest  of  social  systems.  Behind  it 
was  the  fine  hand  of  the  same  conservative  element 
that  haled  the  Nature  Man  before  the  Insanity  Com 
mission  in  Los  Angeles  and  that  deported  him  from 
Hawaii.  It  is  so  hard  for  self-satisfied  men  to  understand 
any  man  whose  satisfactions  are  fundamentally  dif 
ferent.  It  seems  clear  that  the  officials  have  connived 
with  the  conservative  element,  for  to  this  day  the  road 
the  Nature  Man  built  is  closed  ;  nothing  has  been  done 
about  it,  while  an  adamant  unwillingness  to  do  anything 
about  it  is  evidenced  on  every  hand.  But  the  Nature  Man 
dances  and  sings  along  his  way.  He  does  not  sit  up 
nights  thinking  about  the  wrong  which  has  been  done 
him  ;  he  leaves  the  worrying  to  the  doers  of  the  wrong. 
He  has  no  time  for  bitterness.  He  believes  he  is  in 
the  world  for  the  purpose  of  being  happy,  and  he  has 
not  a  moment  to  waste  in  any  other  pursuit. 

The  road  to  his  plantation  is  blocked.  He  cannot 
build  a  new  road,  for  there  is  no  ground  on  which  hecan 
build  it.  The  government  has  restricted  him  to  a 
wild-pig  trail  which  runs  precipitously  up  the  mountain. 
I  climbed  the  trail  with  hirn,  and  we  had  to  climb  with 
hands  and  feet  in  order  to  get  up.  Nor  can  that  wild- 
pig  trail  be  made  into  a  road  by  any  amount  of  toil 
less  than  that  of  an  engineer,  a  steam-engine,  and  a 
steel  cable.  But  what  does  the  Nature  Man  care?  In 
his  gentle  ethics  the  evil  men  do  him  he  requites  with 
goodness.  And whoshall  say  heisnothappierthan they  ? 

"  Never  mind  their  pesky  road,"  he  said  to  me  as 


i94      THE    CRUISE  OF    THE    SNARK 

we  dragged  ourselves  up  a  shelf  of  rock  and  sat  down, 
panting,  to  rest.  "I'll  get  an  air  machine  soon  and  fool 
them.  I'm  clearing  a  level  space  for  a  landing  stage 
for  the  airships,  and  next  time  you  come  to  Tahiti  you 
will  alight  right  at  my  door." 

Yes,  the  Nature  Man  has  some  strange  ideas  besides 
that  of  the  gorilla  pounding  his  chest  in  the  African 
jungle.  The  Nature  Man  has  ideas  about  levitation. 
"Yes,  sir,"  he  said  to  me,  "  levitation  is  not  impossible. 
And  think  of  the  glory  of  it  —  lifting  one's  self  from  the 
ground  by  an  act  of  will.  Think  of  it !  The  astron 
omers  tell  us  that  our  whole  solar  system  is  dying  ;  that, 
barring  accidents,  it  will  all  be  so  cold  that  no  life  can  live 
upon  it.  Very  well.  In  that  day  all  men  will  be  ac 
complished  levitationists,  and  they  will  leave  this  perish 
ing  planet  and  seek  more  hospitable  worlds.  How  can 
levitation  be  accomplished  ?  By  progressive  fasts.  Yes, 
I  have  tried  them,  and  toward  the  end  I  could  feel  my 
self  actually  getting  lighter." 

The  man  is  a  maniac,  thought  I. 

"  Of  course,"  he  added,  "  these  are  only  theories  of 
mine.  I  like  to  speculate  upon  the  glorious  future  of 
man.  Levitation  may  not  be  possible,  but  I  like  to 
think  of  it  as  possible." 

One  evening,  when  he  yawned,  I  asked  him  how 
much  sleep  he  allowed  himself. 

"  Seven  hours,"  was  the  answer.  "  But  in  ten  years 
I'll  be  sleeping  only  six  hours,  and  in  twenty  years 
only  five  hours.  You  see,  I  shall  cut  off  an  hour's 
sleep  every  ten  years." 

"  Then  when  you  are  a  hundred  you  won't  be  sleep 
ing  at  all,"  I  interjected. 

"  Just  that.     Exactly  that.     When  I  am  a  hundred 


THE   NATURE    MAN  195 

I  shall  not  require  sleep.  Also,  I  shall  be  living  on 
air.  There  are  plants  that  live  on  air,  you  know." 

"  But  has  any  man  ever  succeeded  in  doing  it  ?  " 

He  shook  is  head. 

"  I  never  heard  of  him  if  he  did.  But  it  is  only  a 
theory  of  mine,  this  living  on  air.  It  would  be  fine, 
wouldn't  it  ?  Of  course  it  may  be  impossible  —  most 
likely  it  is.  You  see,  I  am  not  unpractical.  I  never 
forget  the  present.  When  I  soar  ahead  into  the  future, 
I  always  leave  a  string  by  which  to  find  my  way  back 
again." 

I  fear  me  the  Nature  Man  is  a  joker.  At  any  rate 
he  lives  the  simple  life.  His  laundry  bill  cannot  be 
large.  Up  on  his  plantation  he  lives  on  fruit  the  labor 
cost  of  which,  in  cash,  he  estimates  at  five  cents  a  day. 
At  present,  because  of  his  obstructed  road  and  because 
he  is  head  over  heels  in  the  propaganda  of  socialism, 
he  is  living  in  town,  where  his  expenses,  including  rent, 
are  twenty-five  cents  a  day.  In  order  to  pay  those 
expenses  he  is  running  a  night  school  for  Chinese. 

The  Nature  Man  is  not  bigoted.  When  there  is 
nothing  better  to  eat  than  meat,  he  eats  meat,  as,  for 
instance,  when  in  jail  or  on  shipboard  and  the  nuts  and 
fruits  give  out.  Nor  does  he  seem  to  crystallize  into 
anything  except  sunburn. 

"  Drop  anchor  anywhere  and  the  anchor  will  drag  — 
that  is,  if  your  soul  is  a  limitless,  fathomless  sea,  and 
not  a  dog-pound,"  he  quoted  to  me,  then  added  :  "  You 
see,  my  anchor  is  always  dragging.  I  live  for  human 
health  and  progress,  and  I  strive  to  drag  my  anchor 
always  in  that  direction.  To  me,  the  two  are  identical. 
Dragging  anchor  is  what  has  saved  me.  My  anchor 
did  not  hold  me  to  my  death-bed.  I  dragged  anchor 


196      THE   CRUISE   OF   THE   SNARK 


Breakfast  from  the  Breadfruit  Tree. 


into  the  brush  and  fooled  the  doctors.  When  I  re 
covered  health  and  strength,  I  started,  by  preaching 
and  by  example,  to  teach  the  people  to  become  nature 
men  and  nature  women.  But  they  had  deaf  ears. 


THE    NATURE    MAN  197 

Then,  on  the  steamer  coming  to  Tahiti,  a  quartermaster 
expounded  socialism  to  me.  He  showed  me  that 
an  economic  square  deal  was  necessary  before  men  and 
women  could  live  naturally.  So  I  dragged  anchor  once 
more,  and  now  I  am  working  for  the  cooperative 
commonwealth.  When  that  arrives,  it  will  be  easy  to 
bring  about  nature  living. 

"  I  had  a  dream  last  night,"  he  went  on  thoughtfully, 
his  face  slowly  breaking  into  a  glow.  "It  seemed  that 
twenty-five  nature  men  and  nature  women  had  just 
arrived  on  the  steamer  from  California,  and  that  I  was 
starting  to  go  with  them  up  the  wild-pig  trail  to  the 
plantation." 

Ah,  me,  Ernest  Darling,  sun-worshipper  and  nature 
man,  there  are  times  when  I  am  compelled  to  envy  you 
and  your  care-free  existence.  I  see  you  now,  dancing 
up  the  steps  and  cutting  antics  on  the  veranda ; 
your  hair  dripping  from  a  plunge  in  the  salt  sea,  your 
eyes  sparkling,  your  sun-gilded  body  flashing,  your 
chest  resounding  to  the  devil's  own  tattoo  as  you  chant : 
<c  The  gorilla  in  the  African  jungle  pounds  his  chest 
until  the  noise  of  it  can  be  heard  half  a  mile  away." 
And  I  shall  see  you  always  as  I  saw  you  that  last  day, 
when  the  Snark  poked  her  nose  once  more  through 
the  passage  in  the  smoking  reef,  outward  bound,  and  I 
waved  good-by  to  those  on  shore.  Not  least  in  good 
will  and  affection  was  the  wave  I  gave  to  the  golden 
sun-god  in  the  scarlet  loin-cloth,  standing  upright  in 
his  tiny  outrigger  canoe. 


CHAPTER    XII 

The  High  Seat  of  Abundance 

On  the  arrival  of  strangers,  every  man  endeavored  to  obtain  one 
as  a  friend  and  carry  him  off  to  his  own  habitation,  where  he  is 
treated  with  the  greatest  kindness  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  district; 
they  place  him  on  a  high  seat  and  feed  him  with  abundance  of  the 
finest  food. 

Polynesian  Researches. 

THE  Snark  was  lying  at  anchor  at  Raiatea,  just  off 
the  village  of  Uturoa.  She  had  arrived  the  night 
before,  after  dark,  and  we  were  preparing  to  pay  our 
first  visit  ashore.  Early  in  the  morning  I  had  noticed  a 
tiny  outrigger  canoe,  with  an  impossible  spritsail, 
skimming  the  surface  of  the  lagoon.  The  canoe 
itself  was  coffin-shaped,  a  mere  dugout,  fourteen  feet 
long,  a  scant  twelve  inches  wide,  and  maybe  twenty- 
four  inches  deep.  It  had  no  lines,  except  in  so  far 
that  it  was  sharp  at  both  ends.  Its  sides  were  per 
pendicular.  Shorn  of  the  outrigger,  it  would  have 
capsized  of  itself  inside  a  tenth  of  a  second.  It  was 
the  outrigger  that  kept  it  right  side  up. 

I  have  said  that  the  sail  was  impossible.  It  was. 
It  was  one  of  those  things,  not  that  you  have  to  see 
to  believe,  but  that  you  cannot  believe  after  you 
have  seen  it.  The  hoist  of  it  and  the  length  of  its 
boom  were  sufficiently  appalling;  but,  not  content 
with  that,  its  artificer  had  given  it  a  tremendous 
head.  So  large  was  the  head  that  no  common  sprit 
could  carry  the  strain  of  it  in  an  ordinary  breeze.  So 

198 


THE    HIGH    SEAT   OF   ABUNDANCE     199 

a  spar  had  been  lashed  to  the  canoe,  projecting  aft 
over  the  water.  To  this  had  been  made  fast  a  sprit 
guy  :  thus,  the  foot  of  the  sail  was  held  by  the  main- 
sheet,  and  the  peak  by  the  guy  to  the  sprit. 

It  was  not  a  mere  boat,  not  a  mere  canoe,  but  a 
sailing  machine.  And  the  man  in  it  sailed  it  by  his 
weight  and  his  nerve  —  principally  by  the  latter.  I 


"  The  sail  was  impossible." 

watched  the  canoe  beat  up  from  leeward  and  run  in 
toward  the  village,  its  sole  occupant  far  out  on  the 
outrigger  and  luffing  up  and  spilling  the  wind  in  the 
puffs. 

"Well,  I  know  one  thing,"  I  announced;  "I  don't 
leave  Raiatea  till  I  have  a  ride  in  that  canoe." 

A  few  minutes  later  Warren  called  down  the  com- 
"  Here's  that  canoe  you  were  talking 


pamonway 
about." 


Promptly  I  dashed  on  deck  and  gave  greeting  to 
its  owner,  a  tall,  slender  Polynesian,  ingenuous  efface, 


200      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

and  with  clear,  sparkling,  intelligent  eyes.  He  was 
clad  in  a  scarlet  loin-cloth  and  a  straw  hat.  In  his 
hands  were  presents  —  a  fish,  a  bunch  of  greens,  and 
several  enormous  yams.  All  of  which  acknowledged' 
by  smiles  (which  are  coinage  still  in  isolated  spots  of 
Polynesia)  and  by  frequent  repetitions  of  mauruuru 
(which  is  the  Tahitian  "  thank  you  "  ),  I  proceeded  to 
make  signs  that  I  desired  to  go  for  a  sail  in  his 
canoe. 

His  face  lighted  with  pleasure  and  he  uttered  the 
single  word,  "  Tahaa,"  turning  at  the  same  time  and 
pointing  to  the  lofty,  cloud-draped  peaks  of  an  island 
three  miles  away  —  the  island  of  Tahaa.  It  was  fair 
wind  over,  but  a  head- beat  back.  Now  I  did  not  want 
to  go  to  Tahaa.  I  had  letters  to  deliver  in  Raiatea, 
and  officials  to  see,  and  there  was  Charmian  down 
below  getting  ready  to  go  ashore.  By  insistent  signs 
I  indicated  that  I  desired  no  more  than  a  short  sail  on 
the  lagoon.  Quick  was  the  disappointment  in  his  face, 
yet  smiling  was  the  acquiescence. 

"  Come  on  for  a  sail,"  I  called  below  to  Charmian. 
"  But  put  on  your  swimming  suit.  It's  going  to  be 
wet." 

It  wasn't  real.  It  was  a  dream.  That  canoe  slid  over 
the  water  like  a  streak  of  silver.  I  climbed  out  on  the 
outrigger  and  supplied  the  weight  to  hold  her  down, 
while  Tehei  (pronounced  Tayhayee)  supplied  the  nerve. 
He,  too,  in  the  puffs,  climbed  part  way  out  on  the  out 
rigger,  at  the  same  time  steering  with  both  hands  on  a 
large  paddle  and  holding  the  mainsheet  with  his  foot. 

"  Ready  about !  "  he  called. 

I  carefully  shifted  my  weight  inboard  in  order  to 
maintain  the  equilibrium  as  the  sail  emptied. 


THE    HIGH    SEAT   OF   ABUNDANCE     201 


cc  Hard  a-lee ! "  he  called,  shooting  her  into  the 
wind. 

I  slid  out  on  the  opposite  side  over  the  water  on  a 
spar  lashed  across  the  canoe,  and  we  were  full  and 
away  on  the  other  tack. 

"  All  right/'  said  Tehei. 

Those  three  phrases,  "  Ready  about,"  "  Hard  a-lee," 
and  "  All  right,"  comprised  Tehei's  English  vocabu 
lary  and  led  me  to  suspect  that  at  some  time  he  had 
been  one  of  a  Kanaka  crew  under  an  American  captain. 
Between  the  puffs  I  made  signs  to  him  and  repeatedly 
and  interrogatively  uttered  the  word  sailor.  Then  I 
tried  it  in  atrocious  French.  Marin  conveyed  no 
meaning  to  him  ;  nor  did  matelot. 
Either  my  French  was  bad,  or 
else  he  was  not  up  in  it.  I  have 
since  concluded  that  both  con 
jectures  were  correct.  Finally,  I 
began. naming  over  the  adjacent 
islands.  He  nodded  that  he  had 
been  to  them.  By  the  time  my 
quest  reached  Tahiti,  he  caught 
my  drift.  His  thought-processes 
were  almost  visible,  and  it  was 
a  joy  to  watch  him  think.  He 
nodded  his  head  vigorously. 
Yes,  he  had  been  to  Tahiti,  and 
he  added  himself  names  of  is 
lands  such  as  Tikihau,  Rangiroa, 
and  Fakarava,  thus  proving  that  he  had  sailed  as  far  as 
the  Paumotus  —  undoubtedly  one  of  the  crew  of  a 
trading  schooner. 

After  our  short  sail,  when  he  had  returned  on  board, 


Tehei. 


202      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

he  by  signs  inquired  the  destination  of  the  Snark,  and 
when  I  had  mentioned  Samoa,  Fiji,  New  Guinea,  France, 
England,  and  California  in  their  geographical  sequence, 
he  said  "  Samoa,"  and  by  gestures  intimated  that  he 
wanted  to  go  along.  Whereupon  I  was  hard  put  to 
explain  that  there  was  no  room  for  him.  "Petit 
bateau  "  finally  solved  it,  and  again  the  disappointment 
in  his  face  was  accompanied  by  smiling  acquiescence,  and 
promptly  came  the  renewed  invitation  to  accompany 
him  to  Tahaa. 

Charmian  and  I  looked  at  each  other.  The  exhila 
ration  of  the  ride  we  had  taken  was  still  upon  us.  For 
gotten  were  the  letters  to  Raiatea,  the  officials  we  had 
to  visit.  Shoes,  a  shirt,  a  pair  of  trousers,  cigarettes, 
matches,  and  a  book  to  read  were  hastily  crammed  into 
a  biscuit  tin  and  wrapped  in  a  rubber  blanket,  and  we 
were  over  the  side  and  into  the  canoe. 

"  When  shall  we  look  for  you  ? "  Warren  called, 
as  the  wind  filled  the  sail  and  sent  Tehei  and  me 
scurrying  out  on  the  outrigger. 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  answered.  "  When  we  get 
back,  as  near  as  I  can  figure  it." 

And  away  we  went.  The  wind  had  increased,  and 
with  slacked  sheets  we  ran  off  before  it.  The  free 
board  of  the  canoe  was  no  more  than  two  and  a  half 
inches,  and  the  little  waves  continually  lapped  over  the 
side.  This  required  bailing.  Now  bailing  is  one  of 
the  principal  functions  of  the  vahine.  Fahine  is  the 
Tahitian  for  woman,  and  Charmian  being  the  only 
vahine  aboard,  the  bailing  fell  appropriately  to  her. 
Tehei  and  I  could  not  very  well  do  it,  the  both  of  us 
being  perched  part  way  out  on  the  outrigger  and  busied 
with  keeping  the  canoe  bottom-side  down.  So  Char- 


THE    HIGH    SEAT   OF   ABUNDANCE     203 

mian  bailed,  with  a  wooden  scoop  of  primitive  design, 
and  so  well  did  she  do  it  that  there  were  occasions 
when  she  could  rest  off  almost  half  the  time. 

Raiatea  and  Tahaa  are  unique  in  that  they  lie  inside 
the  same  encircling  reef.  Both  are  volcanic  islands, 
ragged  of  sky-line,  with  heaven-aspiring  peaks  and  mina 
rets.  Since  Raiatea  is  thirty  miles  in  circumference,  and 
Tahaa  fifteen  miles,  some  idea  may  be  gained  of  the 
magnitude  of  the  reef  that  encloses  them.  Between 
them  and  the  reef  stretches  from  one  to  two  miles  of 
water,  forming  a  beautiful  lagoon.  The  huge  Pacific 
.seas,  extending  in  unbroken  lines  sometimes  a  mile  or 
half  as  much  again  in  length,  hurl  themselves  upon  the 
reef,  overtowering  and  falling  upon  it  with  tremendous 
crashes,  and  yet  the  fragile  coral  structure  withstands 
the  shock  and  protects  the  land.  Outside  lies  destruc 
tion  to  the  mightiest  ship  afloat.  Inside  reigns  the 
calm  of  untroubled  water,  whereon  a  canoe  like  ours 
can  sail  with  no  more  than  a  couple  of  inches  of  free 
board. 

We  flew  over  the  water.  And  such  water  !  —  clear 
as  the  clearest  spring-water,  and  crystalline  in  its  clear 
ness,  all  intershot  with  a  maddening  pageant  of  colors 
and  rainbow  ribbons  more  magnificently  gorgeous  than 
any  rainbow.  Jade  green  alternated  with  turquoise, 
peacock  blue  with  emerald,  while  now  the  canoe 
skimmed  over  reddish  purple  pools,  and  again  over 
pools  of  dazzling,  shimmering  white  where  pounded 
coral  sand  lay  beneath  and  upon  which  oozed  mon 
strous  sea-slugs.  One  moment  we  were  above  wonder- 
gardens  of  coral,  wherein  colored  fishes  disported, 
fluttering  like  marine  butterflies ;  the  next  moment 
we  were  dashing  across  the  dark  surface  of  deep  chan- 


204      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

nels,  out  of  which  schools  of  flying  fish  lifted  their 
silvery  flight ;  and  a  third  moment  we  were  above 
other  gardens  of  living  coral,  each  more  wonderful 
than  the  last.  And  above  all  was  the  tropic,  trade- 
wind  sky  with  its  fluffy  clouds  racing  across  the  zenith 
and  heaping  the  horizon  with  their  soft  masses. 

Before  we  were  aware,  we  were  close  in  to  Tahaa  (pro 
nounced  Tah-hah-ah,  with  equal  accents),  and  Tehei 
was  grinning  approval  of  the  vahine's  proficiency  at  bail 
ing.  The  canoe  grounded  on  a  shallow  shore,  twenty 
feet  from  land,  and  we  waded  out  on  a  soft  bottom  where 
big  slugs  curled  and  writhed  under  our  feet  and  where 
small  octopuses  advertised  their  existence  by  their  su 
perlative  softness  when  stepped  upon.  Close  to  the 
beach,  amid  cocoanut  palms  and  banana  trees,  erected 
on  stilts,  built  of  bamboo,  with  a  grass-thatched  roof, 
was  Tehei's  house.  And  out  of  the  house  came 
Tehei's  vahine,  a  slender  mite  of  a  woman,  kindly 
eyed  and  Mongolian  of  feature — when  she  was  not 
North  American  Indian.  "  Bihaura,"  Tehei  called  her, 
but  he  did  not  pronounce  it  according  to  English 
notions  of  spelling.  Spelled  "  Bihaura,"  it  sounded 
like  Bee-ah-oo-rah,  with  every  syllable  sharply  empha 
sized. 

She  took  Charmian  by  the  hand  and  led  her  into 
the  house,  leaving  Tehei  and  me  to  follow.  Here,  by 
sign-language  unmistakable,  we  were  informed  that  all 
they  possessed  was  ours.  No  hidalgo  was  ever 
more  generous  in  the  expression  of  giving,  while  I 
am  sure  that  few  hidalgos  were  ever  as  generous 
in  the  actual  practice.  We  quickly  discovered 
that  we  dare  not  admire  their  possessions,  for  when 
ever  we  did  admire  a  particular  object  it  was  im- 


THE    HIGH    SEAT    OF    ABUNDANCE     205 

mediately  presented  to  us.  The  two  vahines,  accord 
ing  to  the  way  of  vahines,  got  together  in  a  discussion 
and  examination  of  feminine  fripperies,  while  Tehei 
and  I,  manlike,  went  over  fishing-tackle  and  wild-pig- 
hunting,  to  say  nothing  of  the  device  whereby  bonitas 
are  caught  on  forty-foot  poles  from  double  canoes. 
Charmian  admired  a  sewing  basket  —  the  best  example 
she  had  seen  of  Polynesian  basketry  ;  it  was  hers.  I 
admired  a  bonita  hook,  carved  in  one  piece  from  a 
pearl-shell ;  it  was  mine.  Charmian  was  attracted  by 
a  fancy  braid  of  straw  sennit,  thirty  feet  of  it  in  a  roll, 
sufficient  to  make  a  hat  of  any  design  one  wished ;  the 
roll  of  sennit  was  hers.  My  gaze  lingered  upon  a 
poi-pounder  that  dated  back  to  the  old  stone  days ;  it 
was  mine.  Charmian  dwelt  a  moment  too  long  on  a 
wooden  poi-bowl,  canoe-shaped,  with  four  legs,  all 
carved  in  one  piece  of  wood;  it  was  hers.  I  glanced 
a  second  time  at  a  gigantic  cocoanut  calabash  ;  it  was 
mine.  Then  Charmian  and  I  held  a  conference  in 
which  we  resolved  to  admire  no  more  —  not  because 
it  did  not  pay  well  enough,  but  because  it  paid  too  well. 
Also,  we  were  already  racking  our  brains  over  the 
contents  of  the  Snark  for  suitable  return  presents. 
Christmas  is  an  easy  problem  compared  with  a  Poly 
nesian  giving-feast. 

We  sat  on  the  cool  porch,  on  Bihaura's  best  mats, 
while  dinner  was  preparing,  and  at  the  same  time  met 
the  villagers.  In  twos  and  threes  and  groups  they 
strayed  along,  shaking  hands  and  uttering  the  Tahitian 
word  of  greeting  —  I  oar  ana,  pronounced  yo-rah-nah. 
The  men,  big  strapping  fellows,  were  in  loin-cloths, 
with  here  and  there  no  shirt,  while  the  women  wore  the 
universal  abu,  a  sort  of  adult  pinafore  that  flows  in 


206      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


THE    HIGH    SEAT    OF   ABUNDANCE     207 

graceful  lines  from  the  shoulders  to  the  ground.  Sad 
to  see  was  the  elephantiasis  that  afflicted  some  of 
them.  Here  would  be  a  comely  woman  of  magnificent 
proportions,  with  the  port  of  a  queen,  yet  marred  by 
one  arm  four  times  —  or  a  dozen  times  — the  size  of 
the  other.  Beside  her  might  stand  a  six-foot  man, 
erect,  mighty-muscled,  bronzed,  with  the  body  of  a 
god,  yet  with  feet  and  calves  so  swollen  that  they  ran 
together,  forming  legs,  shapeless,  monstrous,  that  were 
for  all  the  world  like  elephant  legs. 

No  one  seems  really  to  know  the  cause  of  the  South 
Sea  elephantiasis.  One  theory  is  that  it  is  caused  by 
the  drinking  of  polluted  water.  Another  theory  at 
tributes  it  to  inoculation  through  mosquito  bites.  A 
third  theory  charges  it  to  predisposition  plus  the  pro 
cess  of  acclimatization.  On  the  other  hand,  no  one 
that  stands  in  finicky  dread  of  it  and  similar  diseases 
can  afford  to  travel  in  the  South  Seas.  There  will  be 
occasions  when  such  a  one  must  drink  water.  There 
may  be  also  occasions  when  the  mosquitoes  let  up 
biting.  But  every  precaution  of  the  finicky  one  will  be 
useless.  If  he  runs  barefoot  across  the  beach  to  have 
a  swim,  he  will  tread  where  an  elephantiasis  case  trod 
a  few  minutes  before.  If  he  closets  himself  in  his  own 
house,  yet  every  bit  of  fresh  food  on  his  table  will  have 
been  subjected  to  the  contamination,  be  it  flesh,  fish, 
fowl,  or  vegetable.  In  the  public  market  at  Papeete 
two  known  lepers  run  stalls,  and  heaven  alone  knows 
through  what  channels  arrive  at  that  market  the  daily 
supplies  of  fish,  fruit,  meat,  and  vegetables.  The  only 
happy  way  to  go  through  the  South  Seas  is  with  a 
careless  poise,  without  apprehension,  and  with  a  Chris 
tian  Science-like  faith  in  the  resplendent  fortune  of 


208      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

your  own  particular  star.  When  you  see  a  woman, 
afflicted  with  elephantiasis,  wringing  out  cream  from 
cocoanut  meat  with  her  naked  hands,  drink  and  reflect 
how  good  is  the  cream,  forgetting  the  hands  that  pressed 
it  out.  Also,  remember  that  diseases  such  as  elephan 
tiasis  and  leprosy  do  not  seem  to  be  caught  by  contact. 

We  watched  a  Raratongan  woman,  with  swollen, 
distorted  limbs,  prepare  our  cocoanut  cream,  and  then 
went  out  to  the  cook-shed  where  Tehei  and  Bihaura 
were  cooking  dinner.  And  then  it  was  served  to  us 
on  a  drygoods  box  in  the  house.  Our  hosts  waited 
until  we  were  done  and  then  spread  their  table  on  the 
floor.  But  our  table  !  We  were  certainly  in  the  high 
seat  of  abundance.  First,  there  was  glorious  raw  fish, 
caught  several  hours  before  from  the  sea  and  steeped 
the  intervening  time  in  lime-juice  diluted  with  water. 
Then  came  roast  chicken.  Two  cocoanuts,  sharply 
sweet,  served  for  drink.  There  were  bananas  that 
tasted  like  strawberries  and  that  melted  in  the  mouth, 
and  there  was  banana-poi  that  made  one  regret  that  his 
Yankee  forebears  ever  attempted  puddings.  Then 
there  was  boiled  yam,  boiled  taro,  and  roasted  feis, 
which  last  are  nothing  more  or  less  than  large,  mealy, 
juicy,  red-colored  cooking  bananas.  We  marvelled  at 
the  abundance,  and,  even  as  we  marvelled,  a  pig  was 
brought  on,  a  whole  pig,  a  sucking  pig,  swathed  in 
green  leaves  and  roasted  upon  the  hot  stones  of  a  native 
oven,  the  most  honorable  and  triumphant  dish  in  the 
Polynesian  cuisine.  And  after  that  came  coffee,  black 
coffee,  delicious  coffee,  native  coffee  grown  on  the  hill 
sides  of  Tahaa. 

Tehei's  fishing-tackle  fascinated  me,  and  after  we 
arranged  to  go  fishing,  Charmian  and  I  decided  to  re- 


THE    HIGH    SEAT    OF   ABUNDANCE     209 

main  all  night.  Again  Tehei  broached  Samoa,  and 
again  my  petit  bateau  brought  the  disappointment 
and  the  smile  of  acquiescence  to  his  face.  Bora  Bora 
was  my  next  port.  It  was  not  so  far  away  but  that 
cutters  made  the  passage  back  and  forth  between  it 
and  Raiatea.  So  I  invited  Tehei  to  go  that  far  with 
us  on  the  Snark.  Then  I  learned  that  his  wife  had 
been  born  on  Bora  Bora  and  still  owned  a  house  there. 
She  likewise  was  invited,  and  immediately  came  the 
counter  invitation  to  stay  with  them  in  their  house  in 
Bora  Bora.  It  was  Monday.  Tuesday  we  would  go 
fishing  and  return  to  Raiatea.  Wednesday  we  would 
sail  by  Tahaa  and  off  a  certain  point,  a  mile  away,  pick 
up  Tehei  and  Bihaura  and  go  on  to  Bora  Bora.  All 
this  we  arranged  in  detail,  and  talked  over  scores  of 
other  things  as  well,  and  yet  Tehei  knew  three  phrases 
in  English,  Charmian  and  I  knew  possibly  a  dozen 
Tahitian  words,  and  among  the  four  of  us  there  were  a 
dozen  or  so  French  words  that  all  understood.  Of 
course,  such  polyglot  conversation  was  slow,  but,  eked 
out  with  a  pad,  a  lead  pencil,  the  face  of  a  clock  Char 
mian  drew  on  the  back  of  a  pad,  and  with  ten  thousand 
and  one  gestures,  we  managed  to  get  on  very  nicely. 

At  the  first  moment  we  evidenced  an  inclination  for 
bed  the  visiting  natives,  with  soft  laoranas,  faded  away, 
and  Tehei  and  Bihaura  likewise  faded  away.  The 
house  consisted  of  one  large  room,  and  it  was  given 
over  to  us,  our  hosts  going  elsewhere  to  sleep.  In 
truth,  their  castle  was  ours.  And  right  here,  I  want 
to  say  that  of  all  the  entertainment  I  have  received  in 
this  world  at  the  hands  of  all  sorts  of  races  in  all  sorts 
of  places,  I  have  never  received  entertainment  that 
equalled  this  at  the  hands  of  this  brown-skinned  couple 


210      THE    CRUISE   OF   THE    SNARK 

of  Tahaa.  I  do  not  refer  to  the  presents,  the  free 
handed  generousness,  the  high  abundance,  but  to  the 
fineness  of  courtesy  and  consideration  and  tact,  and  to 
the  sympathy  that  was  real  sympathy  in  that  it  was 
understanding.  They  did  nothing  they  thought  ought 
to  be  done  for  us,  according  to  their  standards,  but 
they  did  what  they  divined  we  wanted  to  be  done  for  us, 
while  their  divination  was  most  successful.  It  would 
be  impossible  to  enumerate  the  hundreds  of  little  acts 
of  consideration  they  performed  during  the  few  days  of 
our  intercourse.  Let  it  suffice  for  me  to  say  that  of 
all  hospitality  and  entertainment  I  have  known,  in  no 
case  was  theirs  not  only  not  excelled,  but  in  no  case 
was  it  quite  equalled.  Perhaps  the  most  delightful  feat 
ure  of  it  was  that  it  was  due  to  no  training,  to  no  com 
plex  social  ideals,  but  that  it  was  the  untutored  and 
spontaneous  outpouring  from  their  hearts. 

The  next  morning  we  went  fishing,  that  is,  Tehei, 
Charmian,  and  I  did,  in  the  coffin-shaped  canoe ;  but 
this  time  the  enormous  sail  was  left  behind.  There 
was  no  room  for  sailing  and  fishing  at  the  same  time 
in  that  tiny  craft.  Several  miles  away,  inside  the  reef, 
in  a  channel  twenty  fathoms  deep,  Tehei  dropped  his 
baited  hooks  and  rock-sinkers.  The  bait  was  chunks  of 
octopus  flesh,  which  he  bit  out  of  a  live  octopus  that 
writhed  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe.  Nine  of  these 
lines  he  set,  each  line  attached  to  one  end  of  a  short 
length  of  bamboo  floating  on  the  surface.  When  a 
fish  was  hooked,  the  end  of  the  bamboo  was  drawn 
under  the  water.  Naturally,  the  other  end  rose  up  in 
the  air,  bobbing  and  waving  frantically  for  us  to  make 
haste.  And  make  haste  we  did,  with  whoops  and  yells 
and  driving  paddles,  from  one  signalling  bamboo  to 


THE    HIGH    SEAT    OF    ABUNDANCE     211 

another,  hauling  up  from  the  depths  great  glistening 
beauties  from  two  to  three  feet  in  length. 

Steadily,  to  the  eastward,  an  ominous  squall  had 
been  rising  and  blotting  out  the  bright  trade-wind  sky. 
And  we  were  three  miles  to  leeward  of  home.  We 
started  as  the  first  wind-gusts  whitened  the  water. 
Then  came  the  rain,  such  rain  as  only  the  tropics  af 
ford,  when  every  tap  and  main  in  the  sky  is  open 
wide,  and  when,  to  top  it  all,  the  very  reservoir  itself 
spills  over  in  blinding  deluge.  Well,  Charmian  was 
in  a  swimming  suit,  I  was  in  pajamas,  and  Tehei  wore 
only  a  loin-cloth.  Bihaura  was  on  the  beach  waiting 
for  us,  and  she  led  Charmian  into  the  house  in  much 
the  same  fashion  that  the  mother  leads  in  the  naughty 
little  girl  who  has  been  playing  in  mud-puddles. 

It  was  a  change  of  clothes  and  a  dry  and  quiet  smoke 
while  kai-kai  was  preparing.  Kai-kai,  by  the  way,  is 
the  Polynesian  for  "  food  "  or  "  to  eat,"  or,  rather,  it 
is  one  form  of  the  original  root,  whatever  it  may  have 
been,  that  has  been  distributed  far  and  wide  over  the 
vast  area  of  the  Pacific.  It  is  kai  in  the  Marquesas, 
Raratonga,  Manahiki,  Niue,  Fakaafo,  Tonga,  New 
Zealand,  and  Vate.  In  Tahiti  "to  eat"  changes  to 
amuj  in  Hawaii  and  Samoa  to  ai,  in  Bau  to  kanay  in 
Niua  to  kaina,  in  Nongone  to  kaka,  and  in  New  Cale 
donia  to  ki.  But  by  whatsoever  sound  or  symbol,  it 
was  welcome  to  our  ears  after  that  long  paddle  in  the 
rain.  Once  more  we  sat  in  the  high  seat  of  abundance 
until  we  regretted  that  we  had  been  made  unlike  the 
image  of  the  giraffe  and  the  camel. 

Again,  when  we  were  preparing  to  return  to  the 
Snark,  the  sky  to  windward  turned  black  and  another 
squall  swooped  down.  But  this  time  it  was  little  rain 


212      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

and  all  wind.  It  blew  hour  after  hour,  moaning  and 
screeching  through  the  palms,  tearing  and  wrenching 
and  shaking  the  frail  bamboo  dwelling,  while  the  outer 
reef  set  up  a  mighty  thundering  as  it  broke  the  force 
of  the  swinging  seas.  Inside  the  reef,  the  lagoon,  shel 
tered  though  it  was,  was  white  with  fury,  and  not  even 
Tehei's  seamanship  could  have  enabled  his  slender 
canoe  to  live  in  such  a  welter. 

By  sunset,  the  back  of  the  squall  had  broken,  though 
it  was  still  too  rough  for  the  canoe.  So  I  had  Tehei 
find  a  native  who  was  willing  to  venture  his  cutter 
across  to  Raiatea  for  the  outrageous  sum  of  two  dollars, 
Chili,  which  is  equivalent  in  our  money  to  ninety 
cents.  Half  the  village  was  told  off  to  carry  presents, 
with  which  Tehei  and  Bihaura  speeded  their  parting 
guests  —  captive  chickens,  fishes  dressed  and  swathed 
in  wrappings  of  green  leaves,  great  golden  bunches  of 
bananas,  leafy  baskets  spilling  over  with  oranges  and 
limes,  alligator  pears  (the  butter-fruit,  also  called  the 
avoca),  huge  baskets  of  yams,  bunches  of  taro  and 
cocoanuts,  and  last  of  all,  large  branches  and  trunks  of 
trees  —  firewood  for  the  Snark. 

While  on  the  way  to  the  cutter  we  met  the  only 
white  man  on  Tahaa,  and  of  all  men,  George  Lufkin,  a 
native  of  New  England  !  Eighty-six  years  of  age  he 
was,  sixty-odd  of  which,  he  said,  he  had  spent  in  the 
Society  Islands,  with  occasional  absences,  such  as  the 
gold  rush  to  Eldorado  in  forty-nine  and  a  short  period 
of  ranching  in  California  near  Tulare.  Given  no  more 
than  three  months  by  the  doctors  to  live,  he  had  re 
turned  to  his  South  Seas  and  lived  to  eighty-six  and 
to  chuckle  over  the  doctors  aforesaid  who  were  all  in 
their  graves.  Fee-fee  he  had,  which  is  the  native  for 


THE    HIGH    SEAT   OF   ABUNDANCE     213 

elephantiasis  and  which  is  pronounced  fay-fay.  A 
quarter  of  a  century  before,  the  disease  had  fastened 
upon  him,  and  it  would  remain  with  him  until  he  died. 
We  asked  him  about  kith  and  kin.  Beside  him  sat  a 
sprightly  damsel  of  sixty,  his  daughter.  "  She  is  all  I 
have,"  he  murmured  plaintively,  "  and  she  has  no 
children  living." 

The  cutter  was  a  small,  sloop-rigged  affair,  but  large 
it  seemed  alongside  Tehei's  canoe.  On  the  other 
hand,  when  we  got  out  on  the  lagoon  and  were  struck 
by  another  heavy  wind-squall,  the  cutter  became  lilipu- 
tian,  while  the  Snark,  in  our  imagination,  seemed  to 
promise  all  the  stability  and  permanence  of  a  continent. 
They  were  good  boatmen.  Tehei  and  Bihaura  had 
come  along  to  see  us  home,  and  the  latter  proved  a 
good  boatwoman  herself.  The  cutter  was  well  bal 
lasted,  and  we  met  the  squall  under  full  sail.  It  was  get 
ting  dark,  the  lagoon  was  full  of  coral  patches,  and  we 
were  carrying  on.  In  the  height  of  the  squall  we  had 
to  go  about,  in  order  to  make  a  short  leg  to  windward 
to  pass  around  a  patch  of  coral  no  more  than  a  foot 
under  the  surface.  As  the  cutter  filled  on  the  other 
tack,  and  while  she  was  in  that  "  dead  "  condition  that 
precedes  gathering  way,  she  was  knocked  flat.  Jib- 
sheet  and  main-sheet  were  let  go,  and  she  righted  into 
the  wind.  Three  times  she  was  knocked  down,  and 
three  times  the  sheets  were  flung  loose,  before  she 
could  get  away  on  that  tack. 

By  the  time  we  went  about  again,  darkness  had 
fallen.  We  were  now  to  windward  of  the  Snark,  and 
the  squall  was  howling.  In  came  the  jib,  and  down 
came  the  mainsail,  all  but  a  patch  of  it  the  size  of  a 
pillow-slip.  By  an  accident  we  missed  the  Snark, 


214      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

which  was  riding  it  out  to  two  anchors,  and  drove 
aground  upon  the  inshore  coral.  Running  the  long 
est  line  on  the  Snark  by  means  of  the  launch,  and  after 
an  hour's  hard  work,  we  heaved  the  cutter  off  and  had 
her  lying  safely  astern. 

The  day  we  sailed  for  Bora  Bora  the  wind  was  light, 
and  we  crossed  the  lagoon  under  power  to  the  point 
where  Tehei  and  Bihaura  were  to  meet  us.  As  we 
made  in  to  the  land  between  the  coral  banks,  we  vainly 
scanned  the  shore  for  our  friends.  There  was  no  sign 
of  them. 

"  We  can't  wait,"  I  said.  "  This  breeze  won't  fetch 
us  to  Bora  Bora  by  dark,  and  I  don't  want  to  use  any 
more  gasolene  than  I  have  to." 

You  see,  gasolene  in  the  South  Seas  is  a  problem. 
One  never  knows  when  he  will  be  able  to  replenish  his 
supply. 

But  just  then  Tehei  appeared  through  the  trees  as  he 
came  down  to  the  water.  He  had  peeled  off  his  shirt 
and  was  wildly  waving  it.  Bihaura  apparently  was  not 
ready.  Once  aboard,  Tehei  informed  us  by  signs  that 
we  must  proceed  along  the  land  till  we  got  opposite  to 
his  house.  He  took  the  wheel  and  conned  the  Snark 
through  the  coral,  around  point  after  point  till  we 
cleared  the  last  point  of  all.  Cries  of  welcome  went  up 
from  the  beach,  and  Bihaura,  assisted  by  several  of  the 
villagers,  brought  off  two  canoe-loads  of  abundance. 
There  were  yams,  taro,  feis,  breadfruit,  cocoanuts, 
oranges,  limes,  pineapples,  watermelons,  alligator  pears, 
pomegranates,  fish,  chickens  galore  crowing  and  cack 
ling  and  laying  eggs  on  our  decks,  and  a  live  pig  that 
squealed  infernally  and  all  the  time  in  apprehension 
of  imminent  slaughter. 


THE    HIGH    SEAT   OF   ABUNDANCE     215 

Under  the  rising  rnoon  we  came  in  through  the 
perilous  passage  of  the  reef  of  Bora  Bora  and  dropped 
anchor  off  Vaitape  village.  Bihaura,  with  housewifely 
anxiety,  could  not  get  ashore  too  quickly  to  her  house 


Visitors  on  Board  the  Snark  at  Raiatea. 

to  prepare  more  abundance  for  us.  While  the  launch 
was  taking  her  and  Tehei  to  the  little  jetty,  the  sound 
of  music  and  of  singing  drifted  across  the  quiet  lagoon. 
Throughout  the  Society  Islands  we  had  been  continually 
informed  that  we  would  find  the  Bora  Borans  very 
jolly.  Charmian  and  I  went  ashore  to  see,  and  on  the 


216      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

village  green,  by  forgotten  graves  on  the  beach,  found 
the  youths  and  maidens  dancing,  flower-garlanded  and 
flower-bedecked,  with  strange  phosphorescent  flowers 
in  their  hair  that  pulsed  and  dimmed  and  glowed  in 
the  moonlight.  Farther  along  the  beach  we  came 
upon  a  huge  grass  house,  oval-shaped,  seventy  feet  in 
length,  where  the  elders  of  the  village  were  singing 
himines.  They,  too,  were  flower-garlanded  and  jolly, 
and  they  welcomed  us  into  the  fold  as  little  lost  sheep 
straying  along  from  outer  darkness. 

Early  next  morning  Tehei  was  on  board,  with  a 
string  of  fresh-caught  fish  and  an  invitation  to  dinner 
for  that  evening.  On  the  way  to  dinner,  we  dropped 
in  at  the  bimine  house.  The  same  elders  were  singing, 
with  here  or  there  a  youth  or  maiden  that  we  had  not 
seen  the  previous  night.  From  all  the  signs,  a  feast 
was  in  preparation.  Towering  up  from  the  floor  was 
a  mountain  of  fruits  and  vegetables,  flanked  on  either 
side  by  numerous  chickens  tethered  by  cocoanut  strips. 
After  several  bimines  had  been  sung,  one  of  the  men 
arose  and  made  oration.  The  oration  was  made  to 
us,  and  though  it  was  Greek  to  us,  we  knew  that  in 
some  way  it  connected  us  with  that  mountain  of 
provender. 

"  Can  it  be  that  they  are  presenting  us  with  all  that  ?  " 
Charmian  whispered. 

"  Impossible,"  I  muttered  back.  "  Why  should 
they  be  giving  it  to  us  ?  Besides,  there  is  no  room  on 
the  Snark  for  it.  We  could  not  eat  a  tithe  of  it.  The 
rest  would  spoil.  Maybe  they  are  inviting  us  to  the 
feast.  At  any  rate,  that  they  should  give  all  that  to 
us  is  impossible." 

Nevertheless  we  found  ourselves  once  more  in  the 


THE    HIGH    SEAT    OF   ABUNDANCE     217 

high  seat  of  abundance.  The  orator,  by  gestures  un 
mistakable,  in  detail  presented  every  item  in  the  moun 
tain  to  us,  and  next  he  presented  it  to  us  in  toto.  It 
was  an  embarrassing  moment.  What  would  you  do 
if  you  lived  in  a  hall  bedroom  and  a  friend  gave  you  a 
white  elephant  ?  Our  Snark  was  no  more  than  a  hall 
bedroom,  and  already  she  was  loaded  down  with  the 
abundance  of  Tahaa.  This  new  supply  was  too  much. 
We  blushed,  and  stammered,  and  mauruurud.  We 
mauruurud  with  repeated  nut's  which  conveyed  the 
largeness  and  overwhelmingness  of  our  thanks.  At  the 
same  time,  by  signs,  we  committed  the  awful  breach 
of  etiquette  of  not  accepting  the  present.  The  himine 
singers'  disappointment  was  plainly  betrayed,  and  that 
evening,  aided  by  Tehei,  we  compromised  by  accept 
ing  one  chicken,  one  bunch  of  bananas,  one  bunch  of 
taro,  and  so  on  down  the  list. 

But  there  was  no  escaping  the  abundance.  I  bought 
a  dozen  chickens  from  a  native  out  in  the  country,  and 
the  following  day  he  delivered  thirteen  chickens  along 
with  a  canoe-load  of  fruit.  The  French  storekeeper 
presented  us  with  pomegranates  and  lent  us  his  finest 
horse.  The  gendarme  did  likewise,  lending  us  a  horse 
that  was  the  very  apple  of  his  eye.  And  everybody 
sent  us  flowers.  The  Snark  was  a  fruit-stand  and  a 
green  grocer's  shop  masquerading  under  the  guise  of  a 
conservatory.  We  went  around  flower-garlanded  all 
the  time.  When  the  himine  singers  came  on  board  to 
sing,  the  maidens  kissed  us  welcome,  and  the  crew, 
from  captain  to  cabin-boy,  lost  its  heart  to  the  maid 
ens  of  Bora  Bora.  Tehei  got  up  a  big  fishing  ex 
pedition  in  our  honor,  to  which  we  went  in  a  double 
canoe,  paddled  by  a  dozen  strapping  Amazons.  We 


218      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

were  relieved  that  no  fish  were  caught,  else  the  Snark 
would  have  sunk  at  her  moorings. 

The  days  passed,  but  the  abundance  did  not  dimin 
ish.  On  the  day  of  departure,  canoe  after  canoe  put 
off  to  us.  Tehei  brought  cucumbers  and  a  young 
papaia  tree  burdened  with  splendid  fruit.  Also,  for 
me  he  brought  a  tiny,  double  canoe  with  fishing  ap 
paratus  complete.  Further,  he  brought  fruits  and 
vegetables  with  the  same  lavishness  as  at  Tahaa.  Bi- 
haura  brought  various  special  presents  for  Charmian, 
such  as  silk-cotton  pillows,  fans,  and  fancy  mats.  The 
whole  population  brought  fruits,  flowers,  and  chickens. 
And  Bihaura  added  a  live  sucking  pig.  Natives  whom 
I  did  not  remember  ever  having  seen  before  strayed 
over  the  rail  and  presented  me  with  such  things  as  fish- 
poles,  fish-lines,  and  fish-hooks  carved  from  pearl-shell. 

As  the  Snark  sailed  out  through  the  reef,  she  had  a 
cutter  in  tow.  This  was  the  craft  that  was  to  take  Bi 
haura  back  to  Tahaa  —  but  not  Tehei.  I  had  yielded 
at  last,  and  he  was  one  of  the  crew  of  the  Snark. 
When  the  cutter  cast  off  and  headed  east,  and  the 
Snark's  bow  turned  toward  the  west,  Tehei  knelt 
down  by  the  cockpit  and  breathed  a  silent  prayer,  the 
tears  flowing  down  his  cheeks.  A  week  later,  when 
Martin  got  around  to  developing  and  printing,  he 
showed  Tehei  some  of  the  photographs.  And  that 
brown-skinned  son  of  Polynesia,  gazing  on  the  pic 
tured  lineaments  of  his  beloved  Bihaura,  broke  down 
in  tears. 

But  the  abundance !  There  was  so  much  of  it. 
We  could  not  work  the  Snark  for  the  fruit  that  was  in 
the  way.  She  was  festooned  with  fruit.  The  life-boat 
and  launch  were  packed  with  it.  The  awning-guys 


THE    HIGH    SEAT   OF   ABUNDANCE     219 

groaned  under  their  burdens.  But  once  we  struck 
the  full  trade-wind  sea,  the  disburdening  began.  At 
every  roll  the  Snark  shook  overboard  a  bunch  or  so 
of  bananas  and  cocoanuts,  or  a  basket  of  limes.  A 
golden  flood  of  limes  washed  about  in  the  lee-scuppers. 
The  big  baskets  of  yams  burst,  and  pineapples  and 
pomegranates  rolled  back  and  forth.  The  chickens 
had  got  loose  and  were  everywhere,  roosting  on  the 
awnings,  fluttering  and  squawking  out  on  the  jib-boom, 
and  essaying  the  perilous  feat  of  balancing  on  the  spin 
naker-boom.  They  were  wild  chickens,  accustomed 
to  flight.  When  attempts  were  made  to  catch  them, 
they  flew  out  over  the  ocean,  circled  about,  and  came 
back.  Sometimes  they  did  not  come  back.  And  in 
the  confusion,  unobserved,  the  little  sucking  pig  got 
loose  and  slipped  overboard. 

"  On  the  arrival  of  strangers,  every  man  endeavored  to  obtain  one  as 
a  friend  and  carry  him  off  to  his  own  habitation,  where  he  is  treated 
with  the  greatest  kindness  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  district :  they  place 
him  on  a  high  seat  and  feed  him  with  abundance  of  the  finest  foods." 


CHAPTER   XIII 

The  Stone-fishing  of  Bora  Bora 

AT  five  in  the  morning  the  conches  began  to  blow. 
From  all  along  the  beach  the  eerie  sounds  arose,  like 
the  ancient  voice  of  War,  calling  to  the  fishermen  to 
arise  and  prepare  to  go  forth.  We  on  the  Snark  like 
wise  arose,  for  there  could  be  no  sleep  in  that  mad  din 
of  conches.  Also,  we  were  going  stone-fishing,  though 
our  preparations  were  few. 

'Tautai-taora  is  the  name  for  stone-fishing,  tautai 
meaning  a  "  fishing  instrument."  And  taora  meaning 


"  In  a  double  canoe  paddled  by  a  dozen  strapping  Amazons." 

"thrown."  But  tautai-taora,  in  combination,  means 
"stone-fishing,"  for  a  stone  is  the  instrument  that  is 
thrown.  Stone-fishing  is  in  reality  a  fish-drive,  similar 


220 


STONE-FISHING    OF    BORA    BORA     221 


in  principle  to  a  rabbit-drive  or  a  cattle-drive,  though 
in  the  latter  affairs  drivers  and  driven  operate  in  the 
same  medium,  while  in  the  fish-drive  the  men  must  be 


The  Launch  attracted  much  Attention. 

in  the  air  to  breathe  and  the  fish  are  driven  through  the 
water.  It  does  not  matter  if  the  water  is  a  hundred 
feet  deep,  the  men,  working  on  the  surface,  drive  the 
fishjust  the  same. 

This  is  the  way  it  is  done.  The  canoes  form  in  line, 
one  hundred  to  two  hundred  feet  apart.  In  the  bow 
of  each  canoe  a  man  wields  a  stone,  several  pounds  in 
weight,  which  is  attached  to  a  short  rope.  He  merely 
smites  the  water  with  the  stone,  pulls  up  the  stone,  and 
smites  again.  He  goes  on  smiting.  In  the  stern  of  each 
canoe,  another  man  paddles,  driving  the  canoe  ahead 
and  at  the  same  time  keeping  it  in  the  formation.  The 
line  of  canoes  advances  to  meet  a  second  line  a  mile  or 
two  away,  the  ends  of  the  lines  hurrying  together  to 
form  a  circle,  the  far  edge  of  which  is  the  shore.  The 


222      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

circle  begins  to  contract  upon  the  shore,  where  the  women, 
standing  in  a  long  row  out  into  the  sea,  form  a  fence  of 
legs,  which  serves  to  break  any  rushes  of  the  frantic 
fish.  At  the  right  moment  when  the  circle  is  sufficiently 
small,  a  canoe  dashes  out  from  shore,  dropping  over 
board  a  long  screen  of  cocoanut  leaves  and  encircling 
the  circle,  thus  reenforcing  the  palisade  of  legs.  Of 
course,  the  fishing  is  always  done  inside  the  reef  in  the 
lagoon. 

"  Tres  jolie"  the  gendarme  said,  after  explaining  by 
signs  and  gestures  that  thousands  offish  would  be  caught 
of  all  sizes  from  minnows  to  sharks,  and  that  the 
captured  fish  would  boil  up  and  upon  the  very  sand 
of  the  beach. 

It  is  a  most  successful  method  of  fishing,  while  its 
nature  is  more  that  of  an  outing  festival,  rather  than  of  a 
prosaic,  food-getting  task.  Such  fishing  parties  take 
place  about  once  a  month  at  Bora  Bora,  and  it  is  a 
custom  that  has  descended  from  old  time.  The  man 
who  originated  it  is  not  remembered.  They  always 
did  this  thing.  But  one  cannot  help  wondering  about 
that  forgotten  savage  of  the  long  ago,  into  whose  mind 
first  flashed  this  scheme  of  easy  fishing,  of  catching 
huge  quantities  of  fish  without  hook,  or  net,  or  spear. 
One  thing  about  him  we  can  know  :  he  was  a  radical. 
And  we  can  be  sure  that  he  was  considered  feather-brained 
and  anarchistic  by  his  conservative  tribesmen.  His 
difficulty  was  much  greater  than  that  of  the  modern 
inventor,  who  has  to  convince  in  advance  only  one  or 
two  capitalists.  That  early  inventor  had  to  convince 
his  whole  tribe  in  advance,  for  without  the  cooperation 
of  the  whole  tribe  the  device  could  not  be  tested.  One 
can  well  imagine  the  nightly  pow-wow-ings  in  that 


STONE-FISHING    OF    BORA    BORA     223 


224      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


primitive  island  world,  when  he  called  his  comrades 
antiquated  moss-backs,  and  they  called  him  a  fool,  a 
freak,  and  a  crank,  and  charged  him  with  having  come 
from  Kansas.  Heaven  alone  knows  at  what  cost  of 
gray  hairs  and  expletives  he  must  finally  have  succeeded 
in  winning  over  a  sufficient  number  to  give  his  idea  a 
trial.  At  any  rate,  the  experiment  succeeded.  It  stood 


The  Stone-thrower. 

the  test  of  truth  —  it  worked!  And  thereafter,  we  can 
be  confident,  there  was  no  man  to  be  found  who  did 
not  know  all  along  that  it  was  going  to  work. 

Our  good  friends,  Tehei  and  Bihaura,  who  were  giv 
ing  the  fishing  in  our  honor,  had  promised  to  come  for 
us.  We  were  down  below  when  the  call  came  from 
on  deck  that  they  were  coming.  We  dashed  up  the 
companionway,  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  sight  of  the 
Polynesian  barge  in  which  we  were  to  ride.  It  was  a 
long  double  canoe,  the  canoes  lashed  together  by  timbers 


STONE-FISHING    OF    BORA    BORA     225 

with  an  interval  of  water  between,  and  the  whole  decorated 
with  flowers  and  golden  grasses.  A  dozen  flower- 
crowned  Amazons  were  at  the  paddles,  while  at  the 
stern  of  each  canoe  was  a  strapping  steersman.  All 
were  garlanded  with  gold  and  crimson  and  orange 
flowers,  while  each  wore  about  the  hips  a  scarlet  pareu. 
There  were  flowers  everywhere,  flowers,  flowers,  flowers, 
without  end.  The  whole  thing  was  an  orgy  of  color. 
On  the  platform  forward  resting  on  the  bows  of  the 
canoes,  Tehei  and  Bihaura  were  dancing.  All  voices 
were  raised  in  a  wild  song  of  greeting. 

Three  times  they  circled  the  Snark  before  coming 
alongside  to  take  Charmian  and  me  on  board.  Then 
it  was  away  for  the  fishing-grounds,  a  five-mile  paddle 
dead  to  windward.  "  Everybody  is  jolly  in  Bora  Bora," 
is  the  saying  throughout  the  Society  Islands,  and  we 
certainly  found  everybody  jolly.  Canoe  songs,  shark 
songs,  and  fishing  songs  were  sung  to  the  dipping  of 
the  paddles,  all  joining  in  on  the  swinging  choruses. 
Once  in  a  while  the  cry  Mao!  was  raised,  whereupon 
all  strained  like  mad  at  the  paddles.  Mao  is  shark,  and 
when  the  deep-sea  tigers  appear,  the  natives  paddle  for 
dear  life  for  the  shore,  knowing  full  well  the  danger 
they  run  of  having  their  frail  canoes  overturned  and  of 
being  devoured.  Of  course,  in  our  case  there  were  no 
sharks,  but  the  cry  of  mao  was  used  to  incite  them  to 
paddle  with  as  much  energy  as  if  a  shark  were  really 
after  them.  "  Hoe  !  Hoe  !  "  was  another  cry  that  made 
us  foam  through  the  water. 

On  the  platform  Tehei  and  Bihaura  danced,  accom 
panied  by  songs  and  choruses  or  by  rhythmic  hand- 
clappings.  At  other  times  a  musical  knocking  of  the 
paddles  against  the  sides  of  the  canoes  marked  the  ac- 


226      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 


STONE-FISHING    OF    BORA    BORA     227 

cent.  A  young  girl  dropped  her  paddle,  leaped  to  the 
platform,  and  danced  a  hula,  in  the  midst  of  which, 
still  dancing,  she  swayed  and  bent,  and  imprinted  on 
our  cheeks  the  kiss  of  welcome.  Some  of  the  songs, 
or  himinesy  were  religious,  and  they  were  especially 
beautiful,  the  deep  basses  of  the  men  mingling  with 
the  altos  and  thin  sopranos  of  the  women  and  forming 
a  combination  of  sound  that  irresistibly  reminded  one 
of  an  organ.  In  fact,  "kanaka  organ"  is  the  scoffer's 
description  of  the  bimine.  On  the  other  hand,  some 
of  the  chants  or  ballads  were  very  barbaric,  having 
come  down  from  pre-Christian  times. 

And  so,  singing,  dancing,  paddling,  these  joyous 
Polynesians  took  us  to  the  fishing.  The  gendarme, 
who  is  the  French  ruler  of  Bora  Bora,  accompanied  us 
with  his  family  in  a  double  canoe  of  his  own,  paddled 
by  his  prisoners  ;  for  not  only  is  he  gendarme  and 
ruler,  but  he  is  jailer  as  well,  and  in  this  jolly  land  when 
anybody  goes  fishing,  all  go  fishing.  A  score  of  single 
canoes,  with  outriggers,  paddled  along  with  us.  Around 
a  point  a  big  sailing-canoe  appeared,  running  beautifully 
before  the  wind  as  it  bore  down  to  greet  us.  Balanc 
ing  precariously  on  the  outrigger,  three  young  men 
saluted  us  with  a  wild  rolling  of  drums. 

The  next  point,  half  a  mile  farther  on,  brought  us 
to  the  place  of  meeting.  Here  the  launch,  which  had 
been  brought  along  by  Warren  and  Martin,  at 
tracted  much  attention.  The  Bora  Borans  could  not 
see  what  made  it  go.  The  canoes  were  drawn  upon 
the  sand,  and  all  hands  went  ashore  to  drink  cocoanuts 
and  sing  and  dance.  Here  our  numbers  were  added 
to  by  many  who  arrived  on  foot  from  near-by  dwell 
ings,  and  a  pretty  sight  it  was  to  see  the  flower-crowned 


228      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


STONE-FISHING   OF    BORA    BORA     229 


maidens,  hand  in  hand  and  two  by  two,  arriving  along 
the  sands. 

"  They  usually  make  a  big  catch,"  Allicot,  a  half- 
caste  trader,  told  us.  "  At  the  finish  the  water  is  fairly 
alive  with  fish.  It  is  lots  of  fun.  Of  course  you  know 
all  the  fish  will  be  yours." 

"  All  P  "  I  groaned,  for  already  the  Snark  was  loaded 


The  Circle  began  to  Contract. 

down  with  lavish  presents,  by  the  canoe-load,  of  fruits, 
vegetables,  pigs,  and  chickens. 

"  Yes,  every  last  fish,"  Allicot  answered.  "  You  see, 
when  the  surround  is  completed,  you,  being  the  guest 
of  honor,  must  take  a  harpoon  and  impale  the  first  one. 
It  is  the  custom.  Then  everybody  goes  in  with  their 
hands  and  throws  the  catch  out  on  the  sand.  There 
will  be  a  mountain  of  them.  Then  one  of  the  chiefs 
will  make  a  speech  in  which  he  presents  you  with  the 
whole  kit  and  boodle.  But  you  don't  have  to  take  them 


THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


all.  You  get  up  and  make  a  speech,  selecting  what  fish 
you  want  for  yourself  and  presenting  all  the  rest  back 
again.  Then  everybody  says  you  are  very  generous." 

"  But  what  would  be  the  result  if  I  kept  the  whole 
present  ?  "  I  asked. 

"It  has  never  happened,"  was  the  answer.  "It 
is  the  custom  to  give  and  give  back  again." 


"The  palisade  of  legs." 

The  native  minister  started  with  a  prayer  for  success 
in  the  fishing,  and  all  heads  were  bared.  Next,  the 
chief  fishermen  told  off  the  canoes  and  allotted  them 
their  places.  Then  it  was  into  the  canoes  and  away. 
No  women,  however,  came  along,  with  the  exception 
of  Bihaura  and  Charmian.  In  the  old  days  even  they 
would  have  been  tabooed.  The  women  remained  be 
hind  to  wade  out  into  the  water  and  form  the  palisade 
of  legs. 

The  big  double  canoe  was  left  on  the  beach,  and  we 


STONE-FISHING   OF    BORA    BORA     231 


went  in  the  launch.  Half  the  canoes  paddled  off  to 
leeward,  while  we,  with  the  other  half,  headed  to  wind 
ward  a  mile  and  a  half,  until  the  end  of  our  line  was  in 
touch  with  the  reef.  The  leader  of  the  drive  occupied  a 
canoe  midway  in  our  line.  He  stood  erect,  a  fine  fig 
ure  of  an  old  man,  holding  a  flag  in  his  hand.  He  di 
rected  the  taking  of  positions  and 
the  forming  of  the  two  lines  by 
blowing  on  a  conch.  When  all 
was  ready,  he  waved  his  flag  to 
the  right.  With  a  single  splash 
the  throwers  in  every  canoe  on 
that  side  struck  the  water  with 
their  stones.  While  they  were 
hauling  them  back  —  a  matter  of 
a  moment,  for  the  stones  scarcely 
sank  beneath  the  surface  —  the  flag 
waved  to  the  left,  and  with  admir 
able  precision  every  stone  on  that 
side  struck  the  water.  So  it  went, 
back  and  forth,  right  and  left ;  with 
every  wave  of  the  flag  a  long  line  of  concussion  smote 
the  lagoon.  At  the  same  time  the  paddles  drove  the 
canoes  forward ;  and  what  was  being  done  in  our  line 
was  being  done  in  the  opposing  line  of  canoes  a  mile 
and  more  away. 

On  the  bow  of  the  launch,  Tehei,  with  eyes  fixed 
on  the  leader,  worked  his  stone  in  unison  with  the 
others.  Once,  the  stone  slipped  from  the  rope,  and 
the  same  instant  Tehei  went  overboard  after  it.  I  do 
not  know  whether  or  not  that  stone  reached  the  bot 
tom,  but  I  do  know  that  the  next  instant  Tehei  broke 
surface  alongside  with  the  stone  in  his  hand.  I  noticed 


One  of  the  Fishermen. 


232      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

this  same  accident  occur  several  times  among  the  near 
by  canoes,  but  in  each  instance  the  thrower  followed 
the  stone  and  brought  it  back. 

The  reef  ends  of  our  lines  accelerated,  the  shore  ends 
lagged,  all  under  the  watchful  supervision  of  the  leader, 
until  at  the  reef  the  two  lines  joined,  forming  the  circle. 
Then  the  contraction  of  the  circle  began,  the  poor 


The  Gendarme  of  Bora  Bora  paddled  by  his  Prisoners. 

frightened  fish  harried  shoreward  by  the  streaks  of  con 
cussion  that  smote  the  water.  In  the  same  fashion 
elephants  are  driven  through  the  jungle  by  motes  of 
men  who  crouch  in  the  long  grasses  or  behind  trees 
and  make  strange  noises.  Already  the  palisade  of  legs 
had  been  built.  We  could  see  the  heads  of  the  women, 
in  a  long  line,  dotting  the  placid  surface  of  the  lagoon. 
The  tallest  women  went  farthest  out,  thus,  with  the 
exception  of  those  close  inshore,  nearly  all  were  up  to 
their  necks  in  the  water. 


STONE-FISHING   OF    BORA    BORA     233 

Still  the  circle  narrowed,  till  canoes  were  almost 
touching.  There  was  a  pause.  A  long  canoe  shot 
out  from  shore,  following  the  line  of  the  circle.  It 
went  as  fast  as  paddles  could  drive.  In  the  stern  a 
man  threw  overboard  the  long,  continuous  screen  of 
cocoanut  leaves.  The  canoes  were  no  longer  needed, 
and  overboard  went  the  men  to  reenforce  the  palisade 


The  Kind  of  Fish  we  did  not  Catch. 

with  their  legs.  For  the  screen  was  only  a  screen,  and 
not  a  net,  and  the  fish  could  dash  through  it  if  they 
tried.  Hence  the  need  for  legs  that  ever  agitated  the 
screen,  and  for  hands  that  splashed  and  throats  that 
yelled.  Pandemonium  reigned  as  the  trap  tightened. 
But  no  fish  broke  surface  or  collided  against  the 
hidden  legs.  At  last  the  chief  fisherman  entered  the 
trap.  He  waded  around  everywhere,  carefully.  But 
there  were  no  fish  boiling  up  and  out  upon  the  sand. 
There  was  not  a  sardine,  not  a  minnow,  not  a  polly- 


THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

wog.  Something  must  have  been  wrong  with  that 
prayer  ;  or  else,  and  more  likely,  as  one  grizzled  fellow 
put  it,  the  wind  was  not  in  its  usual  quarter  and  the 
fish  were  elsewhere  in  the  lagoon.  In  fact,  there  had 
been  no  fish  to  drive. 

"  About  once  in  five  these  drives  are  failures,"  Alli- 
cot  consoled  us. 

Well,  it  was  the  stone-fishing  that  had  brought  us 
to  Bora  Bora,  and  it  was  our  luck  to  draw  the  one 
chance  in  five.  Had  it  been  a  raffle,  it  would  have 
been  the  other  way  about.  This  is  not  pessimism. 
Nor  is  it  an  indictment  of  the  plan  of  the  universe. 
It  is  merely  that  feeling  which  is  familiar  to  most 
fishermen  at  the  empty  end  of  a  hard  day. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

The  Amateur  Navigator 

THERE  are  captains  and  captains,  and  some  mighty 
fine  captains,  I  know  ;  but  the  run  of  the  captains  on 
the  Snark  has  been  remarkably  otherwise.  My  experi 
ence  with  them  has  been  that  it  is  harder  to  take  care 
of  one  captain  on  a  small  boat  than  of  two  small  babies. 
Of  course,  this  is  no  more  than  is  to  be  expected.  The 
good  men  have  positions,  and  are  not  likely  to  forsake 
their  one-thousand-to-fifteen-thousand-ton  billets  for 
the  Snark  with  her  ten  tons  net.  The  Snark  has  had 
to  cull  her  navigators  from  the  beach,  and  the  naviga 
tor  on  the  beach  is  usually  a  congenital  inefficient  — 
the  sort  of  man  who  beats  about  for  a  fortnight  trying 
vainly  to  find  an  ocean  isle  and  who  returns  with  his 
schooner  to  report  the  island  sunk  with  all  on  board, 
the  sort  of  man  whose  temper  or  thirst  for  strong 
waters  works  him  out  of  billets  faster  than  he  can 
work  into  them. 

The  Snark  has  had  three  captains,  and  by  the 
grace  of  God  she  shall  have  no  more.  The  first 
captain  was  so  senile  as  to  be  unable  to  give  a  meas 
urement  for  a  boom-jaw  to  a  carpenter.  So  utterly 
agedly  helpless  was  he,  that  he  was  unable  to  order  a 
sailor  to  throw  a  few  buckets  of  salt  water  on  the  Snark 'j 
deck.  For  twelve  days,  at  anchor,  under  an  over 
head  tropic  sun,  the  deck  lay  dry.  It  was  a  new  deck. 
It  cost  me  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  dollars  to 
recalk  it.  The  second  captain  was  angry.  He  was 

235 


236      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

born  angry.  "  Papa  is  always  angry/'  was  the  de 
scription  given  him  by  his  half-breed  son.  The  third 
captain  was  so  crooked  that  he  couldn't  hide  behind 
a  corkscrew.  The  truth  was  not  in  him,  common 
honesty  was  not  in  him,  and  he  was  as  far  away  from 
fair  play  and  square-dealing  as  he  was  from  his  proper 
course  when  he  nearly  wrecked  the  Snark  on  the  Ring- 
gold  Isles. 

It  was  at  Suva,  in  the  Fijis,  that  I  discharged  my 
third  and  last  captain  and  took  up  again  the  role 
of  amateur  navigator.  I  had  essayed  it  once  before, 
under  my  first  captain,  who,  out  of  San  Francisco, 
jumped  the  Snark  so  amazingly  over  the  chart  that  I 
really  had  to  find  out  what  was  doing.  It  was  fairly 
easy  to  find  out,  for  we  had  a  run  of  twenty-one  hun 
dred  miles  before  us.  I  knew  nothing  of  navigation  ; 
but,  after  several  hours  of  reading  up  and  half  an 
hour's  practice  with  the  sextant,  I  -was  able  to  find  the 
Snark's  latitude  by  meridian  observation  and  her  longi 
tude  by  the  simple  method  known  as  "equal altitudes." 
This  is  not  a  correct  method.  It  is  not  even  a  safe 
method,  but  my  captain  was  attempting  to  navigate  by 
it,  and  he  was  the  only  one  on  board  who  should  have 
been  able  to  tell  me  that  it  was  a  method  to  -be  es 
chewed.  I  brought  the  Snark  to  Hawaii,  but  the 
conditions  favored  me.  The  sun  was  in  northern 
declination  and  nearly  overhead.  The  legitimate 
4£  chronometer-sight "  method  of  ascertaining  the 
longitude  I  had  not  heard  of — yes,  I  had  heard  of  it. 
My  first  captain  mentioned  it  vaguely,  but  after  one  or 
two  attempts  at  practice  of  it  he  mentioned  it  no  more. 

I  had  time  in  the  Fijis  to  compare  my  chronometer 
with  two  other  chronometers.  Two  weeks  previous, 


THE   AMATEUR    NAVIGATOR       237 

at  Pago  Pago,  in  Samoa,  I  had  asked  my  captain  to 
compare  our  chronometer  with  the  chronometers  on 
the  American  cruiser,  the  Annapolis.  This  he  told 
me  he  had  done  —  of  course  he  had  done  nothing  of 


The  Famous  "  Broom  Road,"  Tahiti. 

the  sort ;  and  he  told  me  that  the  difference  he  had 
ascertained  was  only  a  small  fraction  of  a  second.  He 
told  it  to  me  with  finely  simulated  joy  and  with  words 
of  praise  for  my  splendid  time-keeper.  I  repeat  it 
now,  with  words  of  praise  for  his  splendid  and  un 
blushing  unveracity.  For  behold,  fourteen  days  later, 


238      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

in  Suva,  I  compared  the  chronometer  with  the  one  on 
the  Atuay  an  Australian  steamer,  and  found  that  mine 
was  thirty-one  seconds  fast.  Now  thirty-one  seconds 
of  time,  converted  into  arc,  equals  seven  and  one- 
quarter  miles.  That  is  to  say,  if  I  were  sailing  west, 
in  the  night-time,  and  my  position,  according  to  my 
dead  reckoning  from  my  afternoon  chronometer  sight, 
was  shown  to  be  seven  miles  off  the  land,  why,  at  that 
very  moment  I  would  be  crashing  on  the  reef.  Next 
I  compared  my  chronometer  with  Captain  Wooley's. 
Captain  Wooley,  the  harbormaster,  gives  the  time  to 
Suva,  firing  a  gun  signal  at  twelve,  noon,  three  times  a 
week.  According  to  his  chronometer  mine  was  fifty- 
nine  seconds  fast,  which  is  to  say,  that,  sailing  west,  I 
should  be  crashing  on  the  reef  when  I  thought  I  was 
fifteen  miles  off  from  it. 

I  compromised  by  subtracting  thirty-one  seconds 
from  the  total  of  my  chronometer's  losing  error,  and 
sailed  away  for  Tanna,  in  the  New  Hebrides,  resolved, 
when  nosing  around  the  land  on  dark  nights,  to  bear 
in  mind  the  other  seven  miles  I  might  be  out  according 
to  Captain  Wooley's  instrument.  Tanna  lay  some  six 
hundred  miles  west-southwest  from  the  Fijis,  and  it  was 
my  belief  that  while  Covering  that  distance  I  could 
quite  easily  knock  into  my  head  sufficient  navigation 
to  get  me  there.  Well,  I  got  there,  but  listen  first  to 
my  troubles.  Navigation  is  easy,  I  shall  always  con 
tend  that ;  but  when  a  man  is  taking  three  gasolene 
engines  and  a  wife  around  the  world  and  is  writing  hard 
every  day  to  keep  the  engines  supplied  with  gasolene 
and  the  wife  with  pearls  and  volcanoes,  he  hasn't  much 
time  left  in  which  to  study  navigation.  Also,  it  is 
bound  to  be  easier  to  study  said  science  ashore,  where 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       239 

latitude  and  longitude  are  unchanging,  in  a  house 
whose  position  never  alters,  than  it  is  to  study  navi 
gation  on  a  boat  that  is  rushing  along  day  and  night 
toward  land  that  one  is  trying  to  find  and  which  he  is 
liable  to  find  disastrously  at  a  moment  when  he  least 
expects  it. 

To  begin  with,  there  are  the  compasses  and  the  set 
ting  of  the  courses.  We  sailed  from  Suva  on  Saturday 
afternoon,  June  6,  1908,  and  it  took  us  till  after  dark 
to  run  the  narrow,  reef-ridden  passage  between  the 
islands  of  Viti  Levu  and  Mbengha.  The  open  ocean 
lay  before  me.  There  was  nothing  in  the  way  with 
the  exception  of  Vatu  Leile,  a  miserable  little  island 
that  persisted  in  poking  up  through  the  sea  some 
twenty  miles  to  the  west-southwest  —  just  where  I 
wanted  to  go.  Of  course,  it  seemed  quite  simple  to 
avoid  it  by  steering  a  course  that  weuld  pass  it  eight  or 
ten  miles  to  the  north.  It  was  a  black  night,  and  we 
were  running  before  the  wind.  The  man  at  the  wheel 
must  be  told  what  direction  to  steer  in  order  to  miss 
Vatu  Leile.  But  what  direction  ?  I  turned  me  to  the 
navigation  books.  "True  Course"  I  lighted  upon. 
The  very  thing  !  What  I  wanted  was  the  true  course. 
I  read  eagerly  on  : 

"  The  True  Course  is  the  angle  made  with  the  meridian  by  a  straight 
line  on  the  chart  drawn  to  connect  the  ship's  position  with  the  place 
bound  to." 

Just  what  I  wanted.  The  Snark's  position  was  at 
the  western  entrance  of  the  passage  between  Viti  Levu 
and  Mbengha.  The  immediate  place  she  was  bound 
to  was  a  place  on  the  chart  ten  miles  north  of  Vatu 
Leile.  I  pricked  that  place  off  on  the  chart  with  my 


24o      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

dividers,  and  with  my  parallel  rulers  found  that  west-by- 
south  was  the  true  course.  I  had  but  to  give  it  to  the 
man  at  the  wheel  and  the  Snark  would  win  her  way  to 
the  safety  of  the  open  sea. 


Paumotan  Natives. 


But  alas  and  alack  and  lucky  for  me,  I  read  on.  I 
discovered  that  the  compass,  that  trusty,  everlasting 
friend  of  the  mariner,  was  not  given  to  pointing  north. 
It  varied.  Sometimes  it  pointed  east  of  north,  some 
times  west  of  north,  and  on  occasion  it  even  turned  tail 
on  north  and  pointed  south.  The  variation  at  the 


THE    AMATEUR    NAVIGATOR       241 

particular  spot  on  the  globe  occupied  by  the  Snark  was 
9°  40'  easterly.  Well,  that  had  to  be  taken  into 
account  before  I  gave  the  steering  course  to  the  man  at 
the  wheel.  I  read  : 

"  The  Correct  Magnetic  Course  is  derived  from  the  True  Course  by 
applying  to  it  the  variation. ' ' 

Therefore,  I  reasoned,  if  the  compass  points  9°  40' 
eastward  of  north,  and  I  wanted  to  sail  due  north,  I 
should  have  to  steer  9°  40'  westward  of  the  north  indi 
cated  by  the  compass  and  which  was  not  north  at  all. 
So  I  added  9°  40'  to  the  left  of  my  west-by-south 
course,  thus  getting  my  correct  Magnetic  Course,  and 
was  ready  once  more  to  run  to  open  sea. 

Again  alas  and  alack !  The  Correct  Magnetic 
Course  was  not  the  Compass  Course.  There  was  an 
other  sly  little  devil  lying  in  wait  to  trip  me  up  and 
land  me  smashing  on  the  reefs  of  Vatu  Leile.  This 
little  devil  went  by  the  name  of  Deviation.  I  read  : 

"  The  Compass  Course  is  the  course  to  steer,  and  is  derived  from 
the  Correct  Magnetic  Course  by  applying  to  it  the  Deviation." 

Now  Deviation  is  the  variation  in  the  needle  caused 
by  the  distribution  of  iron  on  board  ship.  This 
purely  local  variation  I  derived  from  the  deviation 
card  of  my  standard  compass  and  then  applied  to  the 
Correct  Magnetic  Course.  The  result  was  the  Com 
pass  Course.  And  yet,  not  yet.  My  standard  com 
pass  was  amidships  on  the  companionway.  My 
steering  compass  was  aft,  in  the  cockpit,  near  the  wheel. 
When  the  steering  compass  pointed  west-by-south- 
three-quarters-south  (the  steering  course),  the  standard 
compass  pointed  west-one-half-north,  which  was  cer- 


242      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


tainly  not  the  steering  course.  I  kept  the  Snark 
up  till  she  was  heading  west-by-south-three-quarters- 
south  on  the 
standard  com- 
which 
the 


on 


pass, 
gave, 

steering  com 
pass,  south- 
west-by-west. 

The  forego 
ing  operations 
constitute  the 
simple  little 
matter  of  set 
ting  a  course. 
And  the  worst 
of  it  is  that  one 
must  perform 
every  step  cor 
rectly  or  else 
he  will  hear 
"Breakers 
ahead  !  "  some 
pleasant  night, 
receive  a  nice 
sea-bath,  and 
be  given  the 
d  e  1  ig  h  t  f  u  1 
diversion  of 
righting  his  way  to  the  shore  through  a  horde  of  man- 
eating  sharks. 

Just  as  the  compass  is  tricky  and  strives  to  fool  the 
mariner  by  pointing  in  all  directions  except  north,  so 


Snark  at  Suva-Fiji  Islands. 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       243 

does  that  guide-post  of  the  sky,  the  sun,  persist  in  not 
being  where  it  ought  to  be  at  a  given  time.  This 
carelessness  of  the  sun  is  the  cause  of  more  trouble - 
at  least  it  caused  trouble  for  me.  To  find  out  where 
one  is  on  the  earth's  surface,  he  must  know,  at  pre 
cisely  the  same  time,  where  the  sun  is  in  the  heavens. 
That  is  to  say,  the  sun,  which  is  the  timekeeper  for 
men,  doesn't  run  on  time.  When  I  discovered  this,  I 
fell  into  deep  gloom  and  all  the  Cosmos  was  filled  with 
doubt.  Immutable  laws,  such  as  gravitation  and  the 
conservation  of  energy,  became  wobbly,  and  I  was  pre 
pared  to  witness  their  violation  at  any  moment  and  to 
remain  unastonished.  For  see,  if  the  compass  lied  and 
the  sun  did  not  keep  its  engagements,  why  should  not 
objects  lose  their  mutual  attraction  and  why  should 
not  a  few  bushel  baskets  of  force  be  annihilated  ? 
Even  perpetual  motion  became  possible,  and  I  was  in 
a  frame  of  mind  prone  to  purchase  Keeley-Motor 
stock  from  the  first  enterprising  agent  that  landed  on 
the  Snark's  deck.  And  when  I  discovered  that  the 
earth  really  rotated  on  its  axis  366  times  a  year,  while 
there  were  only  365  sunrises  and  sunsets,  I  was  ready 
to  doubt  my  own  identity. 

This  is  the  way  of  the  sun.  It  is  so  irregular  that 
it  is  impossible  for  man  to  devise  a  clock  that  will 
keep  the  sun's  time.  The  sun  accelerates  and  retards 
as  no  clock  could  be  made  to  accelerate  and  retard. 
The  sun  is  sometimes  ahead  of  its  schedule ;  at  other 
times  it  is  lagging  behind ;  and  at  still  other  times  it  is 
breaking  the  speed  limit  in  order  to  overtake  itself,  or, 
rather,  to  catch  up  with  where  it  ought  to  be  in  the 
sky.  In  this  last  case  it  does  not  slow  down  quick 
enough,  and,  as  a  result,  goes  dashing  ahead  of  where 


244      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

it  ought  to  be.  In  fact,  only  four  days  in  a  year  do 
the  sun  and  the  place  where  the  sun  ought  to  be  hap 
pen  to  coincide.  The  remaining  361  days  the  sun  is 
pothering  around  all  over  the  shop.  Man,  being 


South  Sea  Island  Beauties  riding  in  the  Snark's  Launch. 

more  perfect  than  the  sun,  makes  a  clock  that  keeps 
regular  time.  Also,  he  calculates  how  far  the  sun  is 
ahead  of  its  schedule  or  behind.  The  difference  be 
tween  the  sun's  position  and  the  position  where  the 
sun  ought  to  be  if  it  were  a  decent,  self-respecting  sun, 
man  calls  the  Equation  of  Time.  Thus,  the  navi- 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       245 

gator  endeavoring  to  find  his  ship's  position  on  the 
sea,  looks  in  his  chronometer  to  see  where  precisely 
the  sun  ought  to  be  according  to  the  Greenwich  cus 
todian  of  the  sun.  Then  to  that  location  he  applies 
the  Equation  of  Time  and  finds  out  where  the  sun 
ought  to  be  and  isn't.  This  latter  location,  along 
with  several  other  locations,  enable  him  to  find  out 
what  the  man  from  Kansas  demanded  to  know  some 
years  ago. 

The  Snark  sailed  from  Fiji  on  Saturday,  June  6, 
and  the  next  day,  Sunday,  on  the  wide  ocean,  out  of 
sight  of  land,  I  proceeded  to  endeavor  to  find  out  my 
position  by  a  chronometer  sight  for  longitude  and  by 
a  meridian  observation  for  latitude.  The  chronometer 
sight  was  taken  in  the  morning,  when  the  sun  was 
some  21°  above  the  horizon.  I  looked  in  the  Nauti 
cal  Almanac  and  found  that  on  that  very  day,  June  7, 
the  sun  was  behind  time  i  minute  and  26  seconds, 
and  that  it  was  catching  up  at  a  rate  of  14.67  seconds 
per  hour.  The  chronometer  said  that  at  the  precise 
moment  of  taking  the  sun's  altitude  it  was  twenty-five 
minutes  after  eight  o'clock  at  Greenwich.  From  this 
date  it  would  seem  a  schoolboy's  task  to  correct  the 
Equation  of  Time.  Unfortunately,  I  was  not  a 
schoolboy.  Obviously,  at  the  middle  of  the  day,  at 
Greenwich,  the  sun  was  i  minute  and  26  seconds  be 
hind  time.  Equally  obviously,  if  it  were  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  sun  would  be  i  minute  and  26 
seconds  behind  time  plus  14.67  seconds.  If  it  were 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  twice  14.67  seconds  would 
have  to  be  added.  And  if  it  were  8:25  in  the  morn 
ing,  then  3^  times  14.67  seconds  would  have  to  be 
added.  Quite  clearly,  then,  if,  instead  of  being  8  :  25 


246      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

A.M.,  it  were  8  :  25  P.M.,  then  8-J-  times  14.67  seconds 
would  have  to  be,  not  added,  but  subtracted ;  for,  if,  at 
noon,  the  sun  were  i  minute  and  26  seconds  behind 
time,  and  if  it  were  catching  up  with  where  it  ought 
to  be  at  the  rate  of  14.67  seconds  per  hour,  then  at 
8.25  P.M  it  would  be  much  nearer  where  it  ought  to 
be  than  it  had  been  at  noon. 

So  far,  so  good.  But  was  that  8  :  25  of  the  chro 
nometer  A.M.  or  P.M.  ?  I  looked  at  the  Snark's  clock. 
It  marked  8  :  9,  and  it  was  certainly  A.M.,  for  I  had 
just  finished  breakfast.  Therefore,  if  it  was  eight  in 
the  morning  on  board  the  Snark,  the  eight  o'clock  of 
the  chronometer  (which  was  the  time  of  the  day  at 
Greenwich)  must  be  a  different  eight  o'clock  from  the 
Snark's  eight  o'clock.  But  what  eight  o'clock  was  it  ? 
It  can't  be  the  eight  o'clock  of  this  morning,  I 
reasoned ;  therefore,  it  must  be  either  eight  o'clock 
this  evening  or  eight  o'clock  last  night. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  I  fell  into  the  bottomless 
pit  of  intellectual  chaos.  We  are  in  east  longitude,  I 
reasoned,  therefore  we  are  ahead  of  Greenwich.  If  we 
are  behind  Greenwich,  then  to-day  is  yesterday  ;  if  we 
are  ahead  of  Greenwich,  then  yesterday  is  to-day,  but 
if  yesterday  is  to-day,  what  under  the  sun  is  to-day!  — 
to-morrow?  Absurd!  Yet  it  must  be  correct.  When 
I  took  the  sun  this  morning  at  8:25,  the  sun's  custo 
dians  at  Greenwich  were  just  arising  from  dinner  last 
night. 

"  Then  correct  the  Equation  of  Time  for  yesterday," 
says  my  logical  mind. 

<c  But  to-day  is  to-day,"  my  literal  mind  insists. 
"I  must  correct  the  sun  for  to-day  and  not  for  yester 
day." 


THE   AMATEUR    NAVIGATOR       247 

"Yet  to-day  is  yesterday,"  urges  my  logical  mind. 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  my  literal  mind  continues. 
"  If  I  were  in  Greenwich  I  might  be  in  yesterday. 
Strange  things  happen  in  Greenwich.  But  I  know  as 


A  South  Sea  Islander. 

sure  as  I  am  living  that  I  am  here,  now,  in  to-day, 
June  7,  and  that  I  took  the  sun  here,  now,  to-day, 
June  7.  Therefore,  I  must  correct  the  sun  here,  now, 
to-day,  June  7." 

"Bosh!"  snaps  my  logical  mind.     "  Lecky  says — " 
"  Never    mind    what    Lecky   says,"    interrupts    my 


248      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

literal  mind.  "  Let  me  tell  you  what  the  Nautical 
Almanac  says.  The  Nautical  Almanac  says  that  to 
day,  June  7,  the  sun  was  i  minute  and  26  seconds  be 
hind  time  and  catching  up  at  the  rate  of  14.67  seconds 
per  hour.  It  says  that  yesterday,  June  6,  the  sun  was 
i  minute  and  36  seconds  behind  time  and  catching 
up  at  the  rate  of  15.66  seconds  per  hour.  You  see, 
it  is  preposterous  to  think  of  correcting  to-day's  sun 
by  yesterday's  time-table." 

"  Fool !  " 

"Idiot!" 

Back  and  forth  they  wrangle  until  my  head  is  whirl 
ing  around  and  I  am  ready  to  believe  that  I  am  in  the 
day  after  the  last  week  before  next. 

I  remembered  a  parting  caution  of  the  Suva  harbor 
master  :  "  In  east  longitude  take  from  the  Nautical  Al 
manac  the  elements  for  the  preceding  day." 

Then  a  new  thought  came  to  me.  I  corrected  the 
Equation  of  Time  for  Sunday  and  for  Saturday,  mak 
ing  two  separate  operations  of  it,  and  lo,  when  the 
results  were  compared,  there  was  a  difference  only 
of  four-tenths  of  a  second.  I  was  a  changed  man. 
I  had  found  my  way  out  of  the  crypt.  The 
Snark  was  scarcely  big  enough  to  hold  me  and  my 
experience.  Four-tenths  of  a  second  would  make 
a  difference  of  only  one-tenth  of  a  mile  —  a  cable- 
length  ! 

All  went  merrily  for  ten  minutes,  when  I  chanced 
upon  the  following  rhyme  for  navigators  : 

"  Greenwich  time  least 
Longitude  east  ; 
Greenwich  best, 
Longitude  west." 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       249 

Heavens  !  The  Snark's  time  was  not  as  good  as 
Greenwich  time.  When  it  was  8:25  at  Greenwich, 
on  board  the  Snark  it  was  only  8:9.  "  Greenwich 


Taupous,  or  Village  Maidens,  Island  of  Savaii,  Samoan  Group. 


time  best,  longitude  west."  There  I  was.  In  west 
longitude  beyond  a  doubt. 

"  Silly  !  "  cries  my  literal  mind.  "  You  are  8  :  9 
A.M.  and  Greenwich  is  8  :  25  P.M." 

"  Very  well,"  answers  my  logical  mind.  "  To  be 
correct,  8.25  P.M.  is  really  twenty  hours  and  twenty- 
five  minutes,  and  that  is  certainly  better  than  eight 


250      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

hours  and  nine  minutes.  No,  there  is  no  discussion  ; 
you  are  in  west  longitude." 

Then  my  literal  mind  triumphs. 

"  We  sailed  from  Suva,  in  the  Fijis,  didn't  we  ?  "  it 
demands,  and  logical  mind  agrees.  "And  Suva  is  in 
east  longitude  ?  "  Again  logical  mind  agrees.  "And 
we  sailed  west  (which  would  take  us  deeper  into  east 
longitude),  didn't  we?  Therefore,  and  you  can't 
escape  it,  we  are  in  east  longitude." 

"  Greenwich  time  best,  longitude  west,"  chants 
my  logical  mind  ;  "  and  you  must  grant  that  twenty 
hours  and  twenty-five  minutes  is  better  than  eight 
hours  and  nine  minutes." 

"All  right,"  I  break  in  upon  the  squabble;  "we'll 
work  up  the  sight  and  then  we'll  see." 

And  work  it  up  I  did,  only  to  find  that  my  longi 
tude  was  184°  west. 

"  I  told  you  so,"  snorts  my  logical  mind. 

I  am  dumbfounded.  So  is  my  literal  mind,  for 
several  minutes.  Then  it  enounces  : 

"  But  there  is  no  184°  west  longitude,  nor  east 
longitude,  nor  any  other  longitude.  The  largest 
meridian  is  180°  as  you  ought  to  know  very  well." 

Having  got  this  far,  literal  mind  collapses  from  the 
brain  strain,  logical  mind  is  dumb  flabbergasted;  and 
as  for  me,  I  get  a  bleak  and  wintry  look  in  my  eyes 
and  go  around  wondering  whether  I  am  sailing  toward 
the  China  coast  or  the  Gulf  of  Darien. 

Then  a  thin  small  voice,  which  I  do  not  recognize, 
coming  from  nowhere  in  particular  in  my  conscious 
ness,  says  : 

"The  total  number  of  degrees  is  360.  Subtract  the 
184°  west  longitude  from  360°,  and  you  will  get 
176°  east  longitude." 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       251 

"  That  is  sheer  speculation,"  objects  literal  mind ; 
and  logical  mind  remonstrates.  "There  is  no  rule  for 
it." 

"  Darn  the  rules  !  "   I  exclaim.     "  Ain't  I  here  ? 

"  The  thing  is  self-evident,"  I  continue.  "  1 84° 
west  longitude  means  a  lapping  over  in  east  longi 
tude  of  four  degrees.  Besides  I  have  been  in  east 
longitude  all  the  time.  I  sailed  from  Fiji,  and  Fiji 
is  in  east  longitude.  Now  I  shall  chart  my  position 
and  prove  it  by  dead  reckoning." 

But  other  troubles  and  doubts  awaited  me.  Here 
is  a  sample  of  one.  In  south  latitude,  when  the  sun 
is  in  northern  declination,  chronometer  sights  may  be 
taken  early  in  the  morning.  I  took  mine  at  eight 
o'clock.  Now,  one  of  the  necessary  elements  in  work 
ing  up  such  a  sight  is  latitude.  But  one  gets  latitude 
at  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  by  a  meridian  observation. 
It  is  clear  that  in  order  to  work  up  my  eight  o'clock 
chronometer  sight  I  must  have  my  eight  o'clock  lati 
tude.  Of  course,  if  the  Snark  were  sailing  due  west 
at  six  knots  per  hour,  for  the  intervening  four  hours 
her  latitude  would  not  change.  But  if  she  were  sailing 
due  south,  her  latitude  would  change  to  the  tune  of 
twenty-four  miles.  In  which  case  a  simple  addition 
or  subtraction  would  convert  the  twelve  o'clock  latitude 
into  eight  o'clock  latitude.  But  suppose  the  Snark 
were  sailing  southwest.  Then  the  traverse  tables  must 
be  consulted. 

This  is  the  illustration.  At  eight  A.M.  I  took  my 
chronometer  sight.  At  the  same  moment  the  distance 
recorded  on  the  log  was  noted.  At  twelve  M.,  when 
the  sight  for  latitude  was  taken,  I  again  noted  the  log, 
which  showed  me  that  since  eight  o'clock  the  Snark 


252      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

had  run  24  miles.  Her  true  course  had  been  west 
|-  south.  I  entered  Table  I,  in  the  distance  column, 
on  the  page  for  |-  point  courses,  and  stopped  at  24,  the 
number  of  miles  run.  Opposite,  in  the  next  two  col- 


Between  Black  Diamonds. 
(Girls  of  Savaii,  Samoa.) 

umns,  I  found  that  the  Snark  had  made  3.5  miles  of 
southing  or  latitude,  and  that  she  had  made  23.7  miles 
of  westing.  To  find  my  eight  o'clock  latitude  was 
easy.  I  had  but  to  subtract  3.5  miles  from  my  noon 
latitude.  All  the  elements  being  present,  I  worked  up 
my  longitude. 


THE    AMATEUR    NAVIGATOR       253 

But  this  was  my  eight  o'clock  longitude.  Since 
then,  and  up  till  noon,  I  had  made  23.7  miles  of  west 
ing.  What  was  my  noon  longitude?  I  followed  the 
rule,  turning  to  Traverse  Table  No.  II.  Entering  the 
table,  according  to  rule,  and  going  through  every  de 
tail,  according  to  rule,  I  found  the  difference  of  longi 
tude  for  the  four  hours  to  be  25  miles.  I  was  aghast. 
I  entered  the  table  again,  according  to  rule ;  I  entered 
the  table  half  a  dozen  times,  according  to  rule,  and 
every  time  found  that  my  difference  of  longitude  was 
25  miles.  I  leave  it  to  you,  gentle  reader.  Suppose 
you  had  sailed  24  miles  and  that  you  had  covered  3.5 
miles  of  latitude,  then  how  could  you  have  covered 
25  miles  of  longitude  ?  Even  if  you  had  sailed  due 
west  24  miles,  and  not  changed  your  latitude,  how  could 
you  have  changed  your  longitude  25  miles  ?  In  the 
name  of  human  reason,  how  could  you  cover  one  mile 
more  of  longitude  than  the  total  number  of  miles  you 
had  sailed  ? 

It  was  a  reputable  traverse  table,  being  none  other 
than  Bowditch's.  The  rule  was  simple  (as  navigators' 
rules  go)  ;  I  had  made  no  error.  I  spent  an  hour 
over  it,  and  at  the  end  still  faced  the  glaring  impossi 
bility  of  having  sailed  24  miles,  in  the  course  of  which 
I  changed  my  latitude  3.5  miles  and  my  longitude  25 
miles.  The  worst  of  it  was  that  there  was  nobody  to 
help  me  out.  Neither  Charmian  nor  Martin  knew  as 
much  as  I  knew  about  navigation.  And  all  the  time 
the  Snark  was  rushing  madly  along  toward  Tanna,  in 
the  New  Hebrides.  Something  had  to  be  done. 

How  it  came  to  me  I  know  not  —  call  it  an  inspira 
tion  if  you  will ;  but  the  thought  arose  in  me:  if  south 
ing  is  latitude,  why  isn't  westing  longitude?  Why 


254      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

should  I  have  to  change  westing  into  longitude  ?  And 
then  the  whole  beautiful  situation  dawned  upon  me. 
The  meridians  of  longitude  are  60  miles  (nautical) 
apart  at  the  equator.  At  the  poles  they  run  together. 


Maids  of  the  Village,  Savaii,  Samoa. 

Thus,  if  I  should  travel  up  the  180°  meridian  of  lon 
gitude  until  I  reached  the  North  Pole,  and  if  the  astron 
omer  at  Greenwich  travelled  up  the  o°  meridian  of 
longitude  to  the  North  Pole,  then,  at  the  North  Pole, 
we  could  shake  hands  with  each  other,  though  before 
we  started  for  the  North  Pole  we  had  been  some  thou- 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       255 

sands  of  miles  apart.  Again :  if  a  degree  of  longitude 
was  60  miles  wide  at  the  equator,  and  if  the  same 
degree,  at  the  point  of  the  Pole,  had  no  width,  then 
somewhere  between  the  Pole  and  the  equator  that 
degree  would  be  half  a  mile  wide,  and  at  other  places 
a  mile  wide,  two  miles  wide,  ten  miles  wide,  thirty 
miles  wide,  ay,  and  sixty  miles  wide. 

All  was  plain  again.  The  Snark  was  in  19°  south 
latitude.  The  world  wasn't  as  big  around  there  as  at 
the  equator.  Therefore,  every  mile  of  westing  at  19° 
south  was  more  than  a  minute  of  longitude ;  for  sixty 
miles  were  sixty  miles,  but  sixty  minutes  are  sixty 
miles  only  at  the  equator.  George  Francis  Train  broke 
Jules  Verne's  record  of  around  the  world.  But  any 
man  that  wants  can  break  George  Francis  Train's 
record.  Such  a  man  would  need  only  to  go,  in  a  fast 
steamer,  to  the  latitude  of  Cape  Horn,  and  sail  due 
east  all  the  way  around.  The  world  is  very  small  in 
that  latitude,  and  there  is  no  land  in  the  way  to  turn 
him  out  of  his  course.  If  his  steamer  maintained  six 
teen  knots,  he  would  circumnavigate  the  globe  in  just 
about  forty  days. 

But  there  are  compensations.  On  Wednesday  even 
ing,  June  10,  I  brought  up  my  noon  position  by  dead 
reckoning  to  eight  P.M.  Then  I  projected  the  Snark' s 
course  and  saw  that  she  would  strike  Futuna,  one  of  the 
easternmost  of  the  New  Hebrides,  a  volcanic  cone  two 
thousand  feet  high  that  rose  out  of  the  deep  ocean.  I 
altered  the  course  so  that  the  Snark  would  pass  ten  miles 
to  the  northward.  Then  I  spoke  to  Wada,  the  cook, 
who  had  the  wheel  every  morning  from  four  to  six. 

"  Wada  San,  to-morrow  morning,  your  watch,  you 
look  sharp  on  weather-bow  you  see  land." 


256      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

'And  then  I  went  to  bed.  The  die  was  cast.  I  had 
staked  my  reputation  as  a  navigator.  Suppose,  just 
suppose,  that  at  daybreak  there  was  no  land.  Then, 
where  would  my  navigation  be  ?  And  where  would 
we  be  ?  And  how  would  we  ever  find  ourselves  ?  or 
find  any  land  ?  I  caught  ghastly  visions  of  the  Snark 
sailing  for  months  through  ocean  solitudes  and  seeking 
vainly  for  land  while  we  consumed  our  provisions  and 
sat  down  with  haggard  faces  to  stare  cannibalism  in  the 
face. 

I  confess  my  sleep  was  not 

"  .    .    .    like  a  summer  sky 

That  held  the  music  of  a  lark." 

Rather  did  "  I  waken  to  the  voiceless  dark,"  and  listen 
to  the  creaking  of  the  bulkheads  and  the  rippling  of 
the  sea  alongside  as  the  Snark  logged  steadily  her  six 
knots  an  hour.  I  went  over  my  calculations  again  and 
again,  striving  to  find  some  mistake,  until  my  brain  was 
in  such  fever  that  it  discovered  dozens  of  mistakes. 
Suppose,  instead  of  being  sixty  miles  off  Futuna,  that 
my  navigation  was  all  wrong  and  that  I  was  only  six 
miles  off?  In  which  case  my  course  would  be  wrong, 
too,  and  for  all  I  knew  the  Snark  might  be  running 
straight  at  Futuna.  For  all  I  knew  the  Snark  might 
strike  Futuna  the  next  moment.  I  almost  sprang  from 
the  bunk  at  that  thought ;  and,  though  I  restrained 
myself,  I  know  that  I  lay  for  a  moment,  nervous  and 
tense,  waiting  for  the  shock. 

My  sleep  was  broken  by  miserable  nightmares. 
Earthquake  seemed  the  favorite  affliction,  though  there 
was  one  man,  with  a  bill,  who  persisted  in  dunning 
me  throughout  the  night.  Also,  he  wanted  to  fight ; 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       257 

and  Charmian  continually  persuaded  me  to  let  him 
alone.  Finally,  however,  the  man  with  the  everlasting 
dun  ventured  into  a  dream  from  which  Charmian  was 
absent.  It  was  my  opportunity,  and  we  went  at  it, 


A  Samoan  Policeman. 

gloriously,  all  over  the  sidewalk  and  street,  until  he 
cried  enough.  Then  I  said,  "  Now  how  about  that 
bill  ?  "  Having  conquered,  I  was  willing  to  pay.  But 
the  man  looked  at  me  and  groaned.  "  It  was  all  a 
mistake,"  he  said;  "the  bill  is  for  the  house  next 
door." 


258      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

That  settled  him,  for  he  worried  my  dreams  no 
more ;  and  it  settled  me,  too,  for  I  woke  up  chuckling 
at  the  episode.  It  was  three  in  the  morning.  I  went 
up  on  deck.  Henry,  the  Rapa  islander,  was  steering. 
I  looked  at  the  log.  It  recorded  forty-two  miles.  The 
Snark  had  not  abated  her  six-knot  gait,  and  she 
had  not  struck  Futuna  yet.  At  half-past  five  I 
was  again  on  deck.  Wada,  at  the  wheel,  had  seen  no 
land.  I  sat  on  the  cockpit  rail,  a  prey  to  morbid 
doubt  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Then  I  saw  land,  a 
small,  high  piece  of  land,  just  where  it  ought  to  be, 
rising  from  the  water  on  the  weather-bow.  At  six 
o'clock  I  could  clearly  make  it  out  to  be  the  beautiful 
volcanic  cone  of  Futuna.  At  eight  o'clock,  when  it 
was  abreast,  I  took  its  distance  by  the  sextant  and 
found  it  to  be  9.3  miles  away.  And  I  had  elected  to 
pass  it  10  miles  away  ! 

Then,  to  the  south,  Aneiteum  rose  out  of  the  sea, 
to  the  north,  Aniwa,  and,  dead  ahead,  Tanna.  There 
was  no  mistaking  Tanna,  for  the  smoke  of  its  volcano 
was  towering  high  in  the  sky.  It  was  forty  miles  away, 
and  by  afternoon,  as  we  drew  close,  never  ceasing  to  log 
our  six  knots,  we  saw  that  it  was  a  mountainous,  hazy 
land,  with  no  apparent  openings  in  its  coast-line.  I 
was  looking  for  Port  Resolution,  though  I  was  quite 
prepared  to  find  that  as  an  anchorage,  it  had  been  de 
stroyed.  Volcanic  earthquakes  had  lifted  its  bottom 
during  the  last  forty  years,  so  that  where  once  the  larg 
est  ships  rode  at  anchor  there  was  now,  by  last  reports, 
scarcely  space  and  depth  sufficient  for  the  Snark.  And 
why  should  not  another  convulsion,  since  the  last  report, 
have  closed  the  harbor  completely  ? 

I  ran  in  close  to  the  unbroken  coast,  fringed  with  rocks 


THE   AMATEUR    NAVIGATOR       259 

awash  upon  which  the  crashing  trade-wind  sea  burst 
white  and  high.  I  searched  with  my  glasses  for  miles, 
but  could  see  no  entrance.  I  took  a  compass  bearing  of 
Futuna,  another  of  Aniwa,  and  laid  them  off  on  the  chart. 
Where  the  two  bearings  crossed  was  bound  to  be  the 
position  of  the  Snark.  Then,  with  my  parallel  rulers, 
I  laid  down  a  course  from  the  Snark' s  position  to  Port 
Resolution.  Having  corrected  this  course  for  variation 
and  deviation,  I  went  on  deck,  and  lo,  the  course  di 
rected  me  towards  that  unbroken  coast-line  of  bursting 
seas.  To  my  Rapa  islander's  great  concern,  I  held  on 
till  the  rocks  awash  were  an  eighth  of  a  mile  away. 

"  No  harbor  this  place,"  he  announced,  shaking  his 
head  ominously. 

But  I  altered  the  course  and  ran  along  parallel  with 
the  coast.  Charmian  was  at  the  wheel.  Martin  was  at 
the  engine,  ready  to  throw  on  the  propeller.  A  narrow 
slit  of  an  opening  showed  up  suddenly.  Through  the 
glasses  I  could  seethe  seas  breaking  clear  across.  Henry, 
the  Rapa  man,  looked  with  troubled  eyes  ;  so  did  Tehei, 
the  Tahaa  man. 

"  No  passage  there,"  said  Henry.  "  We  go  there,  we 
finish  quick,  sure." 

I  confess  I  thought  so,  too ;  but  I  ran  on  abreast, 
watching  to  see  if  the  line  of  breakers  from  one  side  the 
entrance  did  not  overlap  the  line  from  the  other  side. 
Sure  enough,  it  did.  A  narrow  place  where  the  sea 
ran  smooth  appeared.  Charmian  put  down  the  wheel 
and  steadied  for  the  entrance.  Martin  threw  on  the 
engine,  while  all  hands  and  the  cook  sprang  to  take 
in  sail. 

A  trader's  house  showed  up  in  the  bight  of  the  bay. 
A  geyser,  on  the  shore,  a  hundred  yards  away,  spouted 


26o      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


THE   AMATEUR   NAVIGATOR       261 

a  column  of  steam.  To  port,  as  we  rounded  a  tiny  point, 
the  mission  station  appeared. 

"  Three  fathoms,"  cried  Wada  at  the  lead-line. 

"  Three  fathoms,"  "  two  fathoms,"  came  in  quick 
succession. 

Charmian  put  the  wheel  down,  Martin  stopped  the  en 
gine,  and  the  Snark  rounded  to  and  the  anchor  rumbled 
down  in  three  fathoms.  Before  we  could  catch  our 
breaths  a  swarm  of  black  Tannese  was  alongside  and 
aboard — grinning,  apelike  creatures,  with  kinky  hair 
and  troubled  eyes,  wearing  safety-pins  and  clay-pipes  in 
their  slitted  ears :  and  as  for  the  rest,  wearing  nothing  be 
hind  and  less  than  that  before.  And  I  don't  mind  tell 
ing  that  that  night,  when  everybody  was  asleep,  I  sneaked 
up  on  deck,  looked  out  over  the  quiet  scene,  and 
gloated — yes,  gloated  —  over  my  navigation. 


CHAPTER   XV 

Cruising  in  the  Solomons. 

"  WHY  not  come  along  now  ?  "  said  Captain  Jansen 
to  us,  at  Penduffryn,  on  the  island  of  Guadalcanal*. 

Charmian  and  I  looked  at  each  other  and  debated 
silently  for  half  a  minute.  Then  we  nodded  our  heads 
simultaneously.  It  is  a  way  we  have  of  making  up 
our  minds  to  do  things ;  and  a  very  good  way  it  is 
when  one  has  no  temperamental  tears  to  shed  over  the 
last  tin  of  condensed  milk  when  it  has  capsized.  (We 
are  living  on  tinned  goods  these  days,  and  since  mind 
is  rumored  to  be  an  emanation  of  matter,  our  similes 
are  naturally  of  the  packing-house  variety.) 

"  You'd  better  bring  your  revolvers  along,  and  a 
couple  of  rifles,"  said  Captain  Jansen.  "  I've  got  five 
rifles  aboard,  though  the  one  Mauser  is  without  am 
munition.  Have  you  a  few  rounds  to  spare  ?  " 

We  brought  our  rifles  on  board,  several  handfuls  of 
Mauser  cartridges,  and  Wada  and  Nakata,  the  Snark's 
cook  and  cabin-boy  respectively.  Wada  and  Nakata 
were  in  a  bit  of  a  funk.  To  say  the  least,  they  were 
not  enthusiastic,  though  never  did  Nakata  show  the 
white  feather  in  the  face  of  danger.  The  Solomon  Is 
lands  had  not  dealt  kindly  with  them.  In  the  first  place, 
both  had  suffered  from  Solomon  sores.  So  had  the  rest 
of  us  (at  the  time,  I  was  nursing  two  fresh  ones  on  a  diet 
of  corrosive  sublimate)  ;  but  the  two  Japanese  had  had 
more  than  their  share.  And  the  sores  are  not  nice. 
They  may  be  described  as  excessively  active  ulcers. 

262 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     263 

A  mosquito  bite,  a  cut,  or  the  slightest  abrasion,  serves 
for  lodgment  of  the  poison  with  which  the  air  seems  to 
be  filled.  Immediately  the  ulcer  commences  to  eat. 
It  eats  in  every  direction,  consuming  skin  and  muscle 
with  astounding  rapidity.  The  pin-point  ulcer  of  the 
first  day  is  the  size  of  a  dime  by  the  second  day,  and 


Typical  Coast  Scene  —  Solomons. 

by  the  end  of  the  week  a  silver  dollar  will  not  cover 
it. 

Worse  than  the  sores,  the  two  Japanese  had  been 
afflicted  with  Solomon  Island  fever.  Each  had  been 
do*wn  repeatedly  with  it,  and  in  their  weak,  convalescent 
moments  they  were  wont  to  huddle  together  on  the 
portion  of  the  Snark  that  happened  to  be  nearest  to 
faraway  Japan,  and  to  gaze  yearningly  in  that  direction. 

But  worst  of  all,  they  were  now  brought  on  board 
the  Minota  for  a  recruiting  cruise  along  the  savage 


264      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

coast  of  Malaita.  Wada,  who  had  the  worse  funk,  was 
sure  that  he  would  never  see  Japan  again,  and  with 
bleak,  lack-lustre  eyes  he  watched  our  rifles  and  am 
munition  going  on  board  the  Minota.  He  knew  about 
the  Minota  and  her  Malaita  cruises.  He  knew  that 
she  had  been  captured  six  months  before  on  the  Malaita 
coast,  that  her  captain  had  been  chopped  to  pieces 
with  tomahawks,  and  that,  according  to  the  barbarian 
sense  of  equity  on  that  sweet  isle,  she  owed  two  more 
heads.  Also,  a  laborer  on  Penduffryn  Plantation,  a 
Malaita  boy,  had  just  died  of  dysentery,  and  Wada 
knew  that  Penduffryn  had  been  put  in  the  debt  of 
Malaita  by  one  more  head.  Furthermore,  in  stowing 
our  luggage  away  in  the  skipper's  tiny  cabin,  he  saw 
the  axe  gashes  on  the  door  where  the  triumphant  bush- 
men  had  cut  their  way  in.  And,  finally,  the  galley 
stove  was  without  a  pipe  —  said  pipe  having  been  part 
of  the  loot. 

The  Minota  was  a  teak-built,  Australian  yacht,  ketch- 
rigged,  long  and  lean,  with  a  deep  fin-keel,  and  de 
signed  for  harbor  racing  rather  than  for  recruiting 
blacks.  When  Charmian  and  I  came  on  board,  we 
found  her  crowded.  Her  double  boat's  crew,  includ 
ing  substitutes,  was  fifteen,  and  she  had  a  score  and 
more  of  "  return"  boys,  whose  time  on  the  plantations 
was  served  and  who  were  bound  back  to  their  bush 
villages.  To  look  at,  they  were  certainly  true  head 
hunting  cannibals.  Thei'r  perforated  nostrils  were 
thrust  through  with  bone  and  wooden  bodkins  the  size 
of  lead-pencils.  Numbers  of  them  had  punctured  the 
extreme  meaty  point  of  the  nose,  from  which  protruded, 
straight  out,  spikes  of  turtle-shell  or  of  beads  strung 
on  stiff  wire.  •  A  few  had  further  punctured  their  noses 


CRUISING   IN   THE    SOLOMONS     265 

with  rows  of  holes  following  the  curves  of  the  nostrils 
from  lip  to  point.  Each  ear  of  every  man  had  from 
two  to  a  dozen  holes  in  it  —  holes  large  enough  to 
carry  wooden  plugs  three  inches  in  diameter  down  to 
tiny  holes  in  which  were  carried  clay-pipes  and  similar 
trifles.  In  fact,  so  many  holes  did  they  possess  that 


Coast  at  Maravovo,  Guadalcanar. 

they  lacked  ornaments  to  fill  them  ;  and  when,  the 
following  day,  as  we  neared  Malaita,  we  tried  out  our 
rifles  to  see  that  they  were  in  working  order,  there  was 
a  general  scramble  for  the  empty  cartridges,  which  were 
thrust  forthwith  into  the  many  aching  voids  in  our 
passengers'  ears. 

At  the  time  we  tried  out  our  rifles  we  put  up  our 
barbed  wire  railings.  The  Minota,  crown-decked, 
without  any  house,  and  with  a  rail  six  inches  high,  was 


266    JTHE   CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

too  accessible  to  boarders.  So  brass  stanchions  were 
screwed  into  the  rail  and  a  double  row  of  barbed  wire 
stretched  around  her  from  stem  to  stern  and  back 
again.  Which  was  all  very  well  as  a  protection  from 
savages,  but  it  was  mighty  uncomfortable  to  those  on 
board  when  the  Mi  not  a  took  to  jumping  and  plunging 
in  a  sea-way.  When  one  dislikes  sliding  down  upon 
the  lee-rail  barbed  wire,  and  when  he  dares  not  catch 
hold  of  the  weather-rail  barbed  wire  to  save  himself 
from  sliding,  and  when,  with  these  various  disinclina 
tions,  he  finds  himself  on  a  smooth  flush-deck  that  is 
heeled  over  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  some  of 
the  delights  of  Solomon  Islands  cruising  may  be  com 
prehended.  Also,  it  must  be  remembered,  the  penalty 
of  a  fall  into  the  barbed  wire  is  more  than  the  mere 
scratches,  for  each  scratch  is  practically  certain  to  be 
come  a  venomous  ulcer.  That  caution  will  not  save 
one  from  the  wire  was  evidenced  one  fine  morning 
when  we  were  running  along  the  Malaita  coast  with 
the  breeze  on  our  quarter.  The  wind  was  fresh,  and 
a  tidy  sea  was  making.  A  black  boy  was  at  the  wheel. 
Captain  Jansen,  Mr.  Jacobsen  (the  mate),  Charmian, 
and  I  had  just  sat  down  on  deck  to  breakfast.  Three 
unusually  large  seas  caught  us.  The  boy  at  the  wheel 
lost  his  head.  Three  times  the  Minota  was  swept. 
The  breakfast  was  rushed  over  the  lee-rail.  The 
knives  and  forks  went  through  the  scuppers  ;  a  boy 
aft  went  clean  overboard  and  was  dragged  back ;  and 
our  doughty  skipper  lay  half  inboard  and  half  out, 
jammed  in  the  barbed  wire.  After  that,  for  the  rest 
of  the  cruise,  our  joint  use  of  the  several  remaining 
eating  utensils  was  a  splendid  example  of  primitive 
communism.  On  the  Eugenie,  however,  it  was  even 


CRUISING   IN   THE   SOLOMONS     267 

worse,  for  we  had  but  one  teaspoon  among  four  of  us 
—  but  the  Eugenie  is  another  story. 

Our  first  port  was  Su'u  on  the  west  coast  of  Malaita. 
The  Solomon  Islands  are  on  the  fringe  of  things.  It 
is  difficult  enough  sailing  on  dark  nights  through  reef- 
spiked  channels  and  across  erratic  currents  where  there 


Four  Old  Rascals. 

are  no  lights  to  guide  (from  northwest  to  southeast  the 
Solomons  extend  across  a  thousand  miles  of  sea,  and 
on  all  the  thousands  of  miles  of  coasts  there  is  not  one 
lighthouse)  ;  but  the  difficulty  is  seriously  enhanced 
by  the  fact  that  the  land  itself  is  not  correctly  charted. 
Su'u  is  an  example.  On  the  Admiralty  chart  of  Ma 
laita  the  coast  at  this  point  runs  a  straight,  unbroken 
line.  Yet  across  this  straight,  unbroken  line  the  Minota 


268      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

sailed  in  twenty  fathoms  of  water.  Where  the  land 
was  alleged  to  be,  was  a  deep  indentation.  Into  this 
we  sailed,  the  mangroves  closing  about  us,  till  we 
dropped  anchor  in  a  mirrored  pond.  Captain  Jansen 
did  not  like  the  anchorage.  It  was  the  first  time  he 
had  been  there,  and  Su'u  had  a  bad  reputation.  There 
was  no  wind  with  which  to  get  away  in  case  of 
attack,  while  the  crew  could  be  bushwhacked  to  a 
man  if  they  attempted  to  tow  out  in  the  whale-boat. 
It  was  a  pretty  trap,  if  trouble  blew  up. 

"Suppose  the  Minoia  went  ashore — what  would 
you  do  ?"  I  asked. 

"  She's  not  going  ashore/'  was  Captain  Jansen's 
answer. 

"  But  just  in  case  she  did?"  I  insisted. 

He  considered  for  a  moment  and  shifted  his  glance 
from  the  mate  buckling  on  a  revolver  to  the  boat's  crew 
climbing  into  the  whale-boat  each  man  with  a  rifle. 

"  We'd  get  into  the  whale-boat,  and  get  out  of  here 
as  fast  as  a  God'd  let  us,"  came  the  skipper's  delayed 
reply. 

He  explained  at  length  that  no  white  man  was  sure 
of  his  Malaita  crew  in  a  tight  place;  that  the  bushmen 
looked  upon  all  wrecks  as  their  personal  property  ;  that 
the  bushmen  possessed  plenty  of  Snider  rifles  ;  and 
that  he  had  on  board  a  dozen  "  return  "  boys  for  Su'u 
who  were  certain  to  join  in  with  their  friends  and  relatives 
ashore  when  it  came  to  looting  the  Minota. 

The  first  work  of  the  whale-boat  was  to  take  the 
return  boys  and  their  trade-boxes  ashore.  Thus  one 
danger  was  removed.  While  this  was  being  done,  a 
canoe  came  alongside  manned  by  three  naked  savages. 
And  when  I  say  naked,  I  mean  naked.  Not  one 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     269 

vestige  of  clothing  did  they  have  on,  unless  nose 
rings,  ear-plugs,  and  shell  armlets  be  accounted  clothing. 
The  head  man  in  the  canoe  was  an  old  chief,  one-eyed, 
reputed  to  be  friendly,  and  so  dirty  that  a  boat-scraper 
would  have  lost  its  edge  on  him.  His  mission  was  to 
warn  the  skipper  against  allowing  any  of  his  people  to 


The  Two  Handsomest  Men  in  the  Solomons. 

go  ashore.     The  old  fellow  repeated  the  warning  again 
that  night. 

In  vain  did  the  whale-boat  ply  about  the  shores  of 
the  bay  in  quest  of  recruits.  The  bush  was  full  of 
armed  natives,  all  willing  enough  to  talk  with  the  re 
cruiter,  but  not  one  would  engage  to  sign  on  for  three 
years'  plantation  labor  at  six  pounds  per  year.  Yet 
they  were  anxious  enough  to  get  our  people  ashore. 
On  the  second  day  they  raised  a  smoke  on  the  beach 
at  the  head  of  the  bay.  This  being  the  customary 
signal  of  men  desiring  to  recruit^  the  boat  was  sent. 


270      THE    CRUISE   OF   THE   SNARK 

But  nothing  resulted.  No  one  recruited,  nor  were  any 
of  our  men  lured  ashore.  A  little  later  we  caught 
glimpses  of  a  number  of  armed  natives  moving  about 
on  the  beach. 

Outside  of  these  rare  glimpses,  there  was  no  telling 
how  many  might  be  lurking  in  the  bush.  There  was 
no  penetrating  that  primeval  jungle  with  the  eye.  In 
the  afternoon,  Captain  Jansen,  Charmian,  and  I  went 
dynamiting  fish.  Each  one  of  the  boat's  crew  carried 
a  Lee-Enfield.  "  Johnny,"  the  native  recruiter,  had  a 
Winchester  beside  him  at  the  steering  sweep.  We 
rowed  in  close  to  a  portion  of  the  shore  that  looked 
deserted.  Here  the  boat  was  turned  around  and  backed 
in  ;  in  case  of  attack,  the  boat  would  be  ready  to  dash 
away.  In  all  the  time  I  was  on  Malaita  I  never  saw  a 
boat  land  bow  on.  In  fact,  the  recruiting  vessels  use 
two  boats  —  one  to  go  in  on  the  beach,  armed,  of  course, 
and  the  other  to  lie  offseveral  hundred  feet  and  "  cover" 
the  first  boat.  The  Minota,  however,  being  a  small 
vessel,  did  not  carry  a  covering  boat. 

We  were  close  in  to  the  shore  and  working  in  closer, 
stern-first,  when  a  school  of  fish  was  sighted.  The 
fuse  was  ignited  and  the  stick  of  dynamite  thrown. 
With  the  explosion,  the  surface  of  the  water  was  broken 
by  the  flash  of  leaping  fish.  At  the  same  instant  the 
woods  broke  into  life.  A  score  of  naked  savages, 
armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  spears,  and  Sniders, 
burst  out  upon  the  shore.  At  the  same  moment  our 
boat's  crew  lifted  their  rifles.  And  thus  the  opposing 
parties  faced  each  other,  while  our  extra  boys  dived 
over  after  the  stunned  fish. 

Three  fruitless  days  were  spent  at  Su'u.  The 
Minota  got  no  recruits  from  the  bush,  and  the  bush- 


Charmian  Goes  to  Market. 


CRUISING   IN   THE   SOLOMONS     271 

men  got  no  heads  from  the  Minota.  In  fact,  the  only 
one  who  got  anything  was  Wada,  and  his  was  a  nice 
dose  of  fever.  We  towed  out  with  the  whale-boat, 
and  ran  along  the  coast  to  Langa  Langa,  a  large  village 
of  salt-water  people,  built  with  prodigious  labor  on  a 
lagoon  sand-bank  —  literally  built  up,  an  artificial 
island  reared  as  %  refuge  from  the  blood-thirsty  bush- 
men.  Here,  also,  on  the  shore  side  of  the  lagoon, 
was  Binu,  the  place  where  the  Minota  was  captured 
half  a  year  previously  and  her  captain  killed  by  the 
bushmen.  As  we  sailed  in  through  the  narrow  en 
trance,  a  canoe  came  alongside  with  the  news  that 
the  man-of-war  had  just  left  that  morning  after  having 
burned  three  villages,  killed  some  thirty  pigs,  and 
drowned  a  baby.  This  was  the  Cambrian,  Captain 
Lewes  commanding.  He  and  I  had  first  met  in  Korea 
during  the  Japanese-Russian  War,  and  we  had  been 
crossing  each  other's  trail  ever  since  without  ever  a 
meeting.  The  day  the  Snark  sailed  into  Suva,  in  the 
Fijis,  we  made  out  the  Cambrian  going  out.  At  Vila, 
in  the  New  Hebrides,  we  missed  each  other  by  one 
day.  We  passed  each  other  in  the  night-time  off  the 
island  of  Santo.  And  the  day  the  Cambrian  arrived 
at  Tulagi,  we  sailed  from  Penduffryn,  a  dozen  miles 
away.  And  here  at  Langa  Langa  we  had  missed  by 
several  hours. 

The  Cambrian  had  come  to  punish  the  murderers 
of  the  Minota  s  captain,  but  what  she  had  succeeded  in 
doing  we  did  not  learn  until  later  in  the  day,  when  a 
Mr.  Abbot,  a  missionary,  came  alongside  in  his  whale- 
boat.  The  villages  had  been  burned  and  the  pigs 
killed.  But  the  natives  had  escaped  personal  harm. 
The  murderers  had  not  been  captured,  though  the 


272      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

Minotas  flag  and  other  of  her  gear  had  been  recovered. 
The  drowning  of  the  baby  had  come  about  through  a 
misunderstanding.  Chief  Johnny,  of  Binu,  had  de 
clined  to  guide  the  landing  party  into  the  bush,  nor 
could  any  of  his  men  be  induced  to  perform  that  office. 
Whereupon  Captain  Lewes,  righteously  indignant,  had 
told  Chief  Johnny  that  he  deserved  to  have  his  village 


Island  of  Uru — Hand-manufactured  —  Malaita. 

burned.  Johnny's  beche  de  mer  English  did  not  include 
the  word  "  deserve."  So  his  understanding  of  it  was 
that  his  village  was  to  be  burned  anyway.  The  immediate 
stampede  of  the  inhabitants  was  so  hurried  that  the 
baby  was  dropped  into  the  water.  In  the  meantime 
Chief  Johnny  hastened  to  Mr.  Abbot.  Into  his  hand 
he  put  fourteen  sovereigns  and  requested  him  to  go  on 
board  the  Cambrian  and  buy  Captain  Lewes  off. 
Johnny's  village  was  not  burned.  Nor  did  Captain 


CRUISING   IN    THE    SOLOMONS     273 

Lewes  get  the  fourteen  sovereigns,  for  I  saw  them 
later  in  Johnny's  possession  when  he  boarded  the  Minota. 
The  excuse  Johnny  gave  me  for  not  guiding  the  land 
ing  party  was  a  big  boil  which  he  proudly  revealed. 
His  real  reason,  however,  and  a  perfectly  valid  one, 
though  he  did  not  state  it,  was  fear  of  revenge  on  the 
part  of  the  bushmen.  Had  he,  or  any  of  his  men, 
guided  the  marines,  he  could  have  looked  for  bloody 
reprisals  as  soon  as  the  Cambrian  weighed  anchor. 

As  an  illustration  of  conditions  in  the  Solomons, 
Johnny's  business  on  board  was  to  turn  over,  for  a 
tobacco  consideration,  the  sprit,  mainsail,  and  jib  of  a 
whale-boat.  Later  in  the  day,  a  Chief  Billy  came  on 
board  and  turned  over,  for  a  tobacco  consideration,  the 
mast  and  boom.  This  gear  belonged  to  a  whale-boat 
which  Captain  Jansen  had  recovered  the  previous  trip 
of  the  Minota.  The  whale-boat  belonged  to  M cringe 
Plantation  on  the  island  of  Ysabel.  Eleven  contract 
laborers,  Malaita  men  and  bushmen  at  that,  had 
decided  to  run  away.  Being  bushmen,  they  knew 
nothing  of  salt  water  nor  of  the  way  of  a  boat  in  the 
sea.  So  they  persuaded  two  natives  of  San  Cristoval, 
salt-water  men,  to  run  away  with  them.  It  served  the 
San  Cristoval  men  right.  They  should  have  known 
better.  When  they  had  safely  navigated  the  stolen 
boat  to  Malaita,  they  had  their  heads  hacked  off  for 
their  pains.  It  was  this  boat  and  gear  that  Captain 
Jansen  had  recovered. 

Not  for  nothing  have  I  journeyed  all  the  way  to  the 
Solomons.  At  last  I  have  seen  Charmian's  proud 
spirit  humbled  and  her  emperious  queendom  of  fem 
ininity  dragged  in  the  dust.  It  happened  at  Langa 
Langa,  ashore,  on  the  manufactured  island  which  one 


274 


THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


cannot  see  for  the  houses.  Here,  surrounded  by  hun 
dreds  of  unblushing  naked  men,  women,  and  children, 
we  wandered  about  and  saw  the  sights.  We  had  our 
revolvers  strapped  on,  and  the  boat's  crew,  fully  armed, 
lay  at  the  oars,  stern  in;  but  the  lesson  of  the  man-of- 
war  was  too  recent  for  us  to  apprehend  trouble.  We 


The  Island  of  Langa  Langa,  built  up  from  the  Sea  by  the  Salt-water  Men. 

walked  about  everywhere  and  saw  everything  until  at 
last  we  approached  a  large  tree  trunk  that  served  as  a 
bridge  across  a  shallow  estuary.  The  blacks  formed  a 
wall  in  front  of  us  and  refused  to  let  us  pass.  We 
wanted  to  know  why  we  were  stopped.  The  blacks 
said  we  could  go  on.  We  misunderstood,  and  started. 
Explanations  became  more  definite.  Captain  Jansen 
and  I,  being  men,  could  go  on.  But  no  Mary  was 
allowed  to  wade  around  that  bridge,  much  less  cross  it. 
"  Mary  "  is  becbe  de  mer  for  woman.  Charmian  was  a 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     275 

Mary.  To  her  the  bridge  was  tambo,  which  is  the 
native  for  taboo.  Ah,  how  my  chest  expanded  !  At 
last  my  manhood  was  vindicated.  In  truth  I  belonged 
to  the  lordly  sex.  Charmian  could  trapes  along  at 
our  heels,  but  we  were  MEN,  and  we  could  go  right 
over  that  bridge  while  she  would  have  to  go  around  by 
whale-boat. 

Nqw  I  should  not  care  to  be  misunderstood  by 
what  follows  ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  common  knowledge 
in  the  Solomons  that  attacks  of  fever  are  often  brought 
on  by  shock.  Inside  half  an  hour  after  Charmian  had 
been  refused  the  right  of  way,  she  was  being  rushed 
aboard  the  Minota,  packed  in  blankets,  and  dosed  with 
quinine.  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  shock  had 
happened  to  Wada  and  Nakata,  but  at  any  rate  they 
were  down  with  fever  as  well.  The  Solomons  might 
be  healthfuller. 

Also,  during  the  attack  of  fever,  Charmian  developed 
a  Solomon  sore.  It  was  the  last  straw.  Every  one 
on  the  Snark  had  been  afflicted  except  her.  I  had 
thought  that  I  was  going  to  lose  my  foot  at  the  ankle 
by  one  exceptionally  malignant  boring  ulcer.  Henry 
and  Tehei,  the  Tahitian  sailors,  had  had  numbers  of 
them.  Wada  had  been  able  to  count  his  by  the  score. 
Nakata  had  had  single  ones  three  inches  in  length. 
Martin  had  been  quite  certain  that  necrosis  of  his  shin- 
bone  had  set  in  from  the  roots  of  the  amazing  colony 
he  elected  to  cultivate  in  that  locality.  But  Charmian 
had  escaped.  Out  of  her  long  immunity  had  been 
bred  a  contempt  for  the  rest  of  us.  Her  ego  was 
flattered  to  such  an  extent  that  one  day  she  shyly 
informed  me  that  it  was  all  a  matter  of  pureness  of 
blood.  Since  all  the  rest  of  us  cultivated  the  sores, 


276      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

and  since  she  did  not  —  well,  anyway,  hers  was  the 
size  of  a  silver,  dollar,  and  the  pureness  of  her  blood 
enabled  her  to  cure  it  after  several  weeks  of  strenuous 
nursing.  She  pins  her  faith  to  corrosive  sublimate. 
Martin  swears  by  iodoform.  Henry  uses  lime-juice 
undiluted.  And  I  believe  that  when  corrosive  subli- 


A  Salt-water  Fastness. 

» 

mate  is  slow  in  taking  hold,  alternate  dressings  of  per 
oxide  of  hydrogen  are  just  the  thing.  There  are 
white  men  in  the  Solomons  who  stake  all  upon  boracic 
acid,  and  others  who  are  prejudiced  in  favor  of  lysol. 
I  also  have  the  weakness  of  a  panacea.  It  is  California. 
I  defy  any  man  to  get  a  Solomon  Island  sore  in  Cali 
fornia. 

We  ran  down  the  lagoon  from  Langa  Langa,  between 
mangrove    swamps,   through   passages    scarcely    wider 


CRUISING    IN   THE    SOLOMONS     277 

than  the  Minota,  and  past  the  reef  villages  of  Kaloka 
and  Auki.  Like  the  founders  of  Venice,  these  salt 
water  men  were  originally  refugees  from  the  mainland. 
Too  weak  to  hold  their  own  in  the  bush,  survivors  of 
village  massacres,  they  fled  to  the  sand-banks  of  the 
lagoon.  These  sand-banks  they  built  up  into  islands. 
They  were  compelled  to  seek  their  provender  from 
the  sea,  and  in  time  they  became  salt-water  men. 
They  learned  the  ways  of  the  fish  and  the  shell-fish, 
and  they  invented  hooks  and  lines,  nets  and  fish-traps. 
They  developed  canoe-bodies.  Unable  to  walk  about, 
spending  all  their  time  in  the  canoes,  they  became 
thick-armed  and  broad-shouldered,  with  narrow  waists 
and  frail  spindly  legs.  Controlling  the  sea-coast,  they 
became  wealthy,  trade  with  the  interior  passing  largely 
through  their  hands.  But  perpetual  enmity  exists 
between  them  and  the  bushmen.  Practically  their 
only  truces  are  on  market-days,  which  occur  at  stated 
intervals,  usually  twice  a  week.  The  bushwomen  and 
the  salt-water  women  do  the  bartering.  Back  in  the 
bush,  a  hundred  yards  away,  fully  armed,  lurk  the 
bushmen,  while  to  seaward,  in  the  canoes,  are  the  salt 
water  men.  There  are  very  rare  instances  of  the 
market-day  truces  being  broken.  The  bushmen  like 
their  fish  too  well,  while  the  salt-water  men  have  an 
organic  craving  for  the  vegetables  they  cannot  grow 
on  their  crowded  islets. 

Thirty  miles  from  Langa  Langa  brought  us  to  the 
passage  between  Bassakanna  Island  and  the  mainland. 
Here,  at  nightfall,  the  wind  left  us,  and  all  night,  with 
the  whale-boat  towing  ahead  and  the  crew  on  board 
sweating  at  the  sweeps,  we  strove  to  win  through.  But 
the  tide  was  against  us.  At  midnight,  midway  in  the 


278      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

passage,  we  came  up  with  the  Eugenie,  a  big  recruiting 
schooner,  towing  with  two  wThale-boats.  Her  skipper, 
Captain  Keller,  a  sturdy  young  German  of  twenty-two, 
came  on  board  for  a  "  gam,"  and  the  latest  news  of  Malaita 
was  swapped  back  and  forth.  He  had  been  in  luck,  hav 
ing  gathered  in  twenty  recruits  at  the  village  of  Fiu. 
While  lying  there,  one  of  the  customary  courageous  kill 
ings  had  taken  place.  The  murdered  boy  was  what  is 
called  a  salt-water  bushman — that  is,  a  salt-water  man  who 
is  half  bushman  and  who  lives  by  the  sea  but  does  not  live 
on  an  islet.  Three  bushmen  came  down  to  this  man 
where  he  was  working  in  his  garden.  They  behaved 
in  friendly  fashion,  and  after  a  time  suggested  kai-kai. 
Kai-kal  means  food.  He  built  a  fire  and  started  to 
boil  some  taro.  While  bending  over  the  pot,  one  of 
the  bushmen  shot  him  through  the  head.  He  fell 
into  the  flames,  whereupon  they  thrust  a  spear  through 
his  stomach,  turned  it  around,  and  broke  it  off. 

"  My  word,"  said  Captain  Keller,  "  I  don't  want 
ever  to  be  shot  with  a  Snider.  Spread  !  You  could 
drive  a  horse  and  carriage  through  that  hole  in  his 
head." 

Another  recent  courageous  killing  I  heard  of  on 
Malaita  was  that  of  an  old  man.  A  bush  chief  had 
died  a  natural  death.  Now  the  bushmen  don't  believe 
in  natural  deaths.  No  one  was  ever  known  to  die  a 
natural  death.  The  only  way  to  die  is  by  bullet,  toma 
hawk,  or  spear  thrust.  When  a  man  dies  in  any  other 
way,  it  is  a  clear  case  of  having  been  charmed  to  death. 
When  the  bush  chief  died  naturally,  his  tribe  placed 
the  guilt  on  a  certain  family.  Since  it  did  not  matter 
which  one  of  the  family  was  killed,  they  selected  this 
old  man  who  lived  by  himself.  This  would  make  it 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     279 

easy.  Furthermore,  he  possessed  no  Snider.  Also, 
he  was  blind.  The  old  fellow  got  an  inkling  of  what 
was  coming  and  laid  in  a  large  supply  of  arrows. 
Three  brave  warriors,  each  with  a  Snider,  came  down 
upon  him  in  the  night-time.  All  night  they  fought 
valiantly  with  him.  Whenever  they  moved  in  the 
bush  and  made  a  noise  or  a  rustle,  he  discharged  an 
arrow  in  that  direction.  In  the  morning,  when  his 
last  arrow  was  gone,  the  three  heroes  crept  up  to  him 
and  blew  his  brains  out. 

Morning  found  us  still  vainly  toiling  through  the 
'passage.  At  last,  in  despair,  we  turned  tail,  ran  out  to 
sea,  and  sailed  clear  round  Bassakanna  to  our  objec 
tive,  Malu.  The  anchorage  at  Malu  was  very  good, 
but  it  lay  between  the  shore  and  an  ugly  reef,  and 
while  easy  to  enter,  it  was  difficult  to  leave.  The 
direction  of  the  southeast  trade  necessitated  a  beat  to 
windward ;  the  point  of  the  reef  was  widespread  and 
shallow ;  while  a  current  bore  down  at  all  times  upon 
the  point. 

Mr.  Caulfeild,  the  missionary  at  Malu,  arrived  in 
his  whale-boat  from  a  trip  down  the  coast.  A  slender, 
delicate  man  he  was,  enthusiastic  in  his  work,  level 
headed  and  practical,  a  true  twentieth-century  soldier 
of  the  Lord.  When  he  came  down  to  this  station  on 
Malaita,  as  he  said,  he  agreed  to  come  for  six  months. 
He  further  agreed  that  if  he  were  alive  at  the  end  of 
that  time,  he  would  continue  on.  Six  years  had  passed 
and  he  was  still  continuing  on.  Nevertheless  he  was 
justified  in  his  doubt  as  to  living  longer  than  six 
months.  Three  missionaries  had  preceded  him  on 
Malaita,  and  in  less  than  that  time  two  had  died  of 
fever  and  the  third  had  gone  home  a  wreck.  , 


280     THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     281 

"What  murder  are  you  talking  about?"  he  asked 
suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  a  confused  conversation  with 
Captain  Jansen. 

Captain  Jansen  explained. 

"  Oh,  that's  not  the  one  I  have  reference  to,"  quoth 
Mr.  Caulfeild.  "  That's  old  already.  It  happened 
two  weeks  ago." 

It  was  here  at  Malu  that  I  atoned  for  all  the  exulting 
and  gloating  I  had  been  guilty  of  over  the  Solomon 


The  Market  —  composed  wholly  of  Women. 

sore  Charmian  had  collected  at  Langa  Langa.  Mr. 
Caulfeild  was  indirectly  responsible  for  my  atonement. 
He  presented  us  with  a  chicken,  which  I  pursued  into 
the  bush  with  a  rifle.  My  intention  was  to  clip  off  its 
head.  I  succeeded,  but  in  doing  so  fell  over  a  log  and 
barked  my  shin.  Result :  three  Solomon  sores.  This 
made  five  all  together  that  were  adorning  my  person. 
Also,  Captain  Jansen  and  Nakata  had  caught  gari-gari. 
Literally  translated,  gari-gari  is  scratch-scratch.  But 
translation  was  not  necessary  for  the  rest  of  us.  The 
skipper's  and  Nakata's  gymnastics  served  as  a  transla 
tion  without  words. 

(No,  the  Solomon  Islands  are  not  as  healthy  as  they 
might  be.      I   am  writing  this  article  on  the  island  of 


282      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

Ysabel,  where  we  have  taken  the  Snark  to  careen  and 
clean  her  copper.  I  got  over  my  last  attack  of  fever 
this  morning,  and  I  have  had  only  one  free  day 
between  attacks.  Charmian's  are  two  weeks  apart. 
Wada  is  a  wreck  from  fever.  Last  night  he  showed 
all  the  symptoms  of  coming  down  with  pneumonia. 
Henry,  a  strapping  giant  of  a  Tahitian,  just  up  from 
his  last  dose  of  fever,  is  dragging  around  the  deck  like 
a  last  year's  crab-apple.  Both  he  and  Tehei  have 
accumulated  a  praiseworthy  display  of  Solomon  sores. 
Also,  they  have  caught  a  new  form  of  gan-gan,  a  sort 
of  vegetable  poisoning  like  poison  oak  or  poison  ivy. 
But  they  are  not  unique  in  this.  A  number  of  days 
ago  Charmian,  Martin,  and  I  went  pigeon-shooting  on 
a  small  island,  and  we  have  had  a  foretaste  of  eternal 
torment  ever  since.  Also,  on  that  small  island,  Martin 
cut  the  soles  of  his  feet  to  ribbons  on  the  coral  while 
chasing  a  shark  —  at  least,  so  he  says,  but  from  the 
glimpse  I  caught  of  him  I  thought  it  was  the  other 
way  about.  The  coral-cuts  have  all  become  Solomon 
sores.  Before  my  last  fever  I  knocked  the  skin  off 
my  knuckles  while  heaving  on  a  line,  and  I  now  have 
three  fresh  sores.  And  poor  Nakata  !  For  three 
weeks  he  has  been  unable  to  sit  down.  He  sat  down 
yesterday  for  the  first  time,  and  managed  to  stay  down 
for  fifteen  minutes.  He  says  cheerfully  that  he  ex 
pects  to  be  cured  of  his  gari-gari  in  another  month. 
Furthermore,  his  gari-gariy  from  too  enthusiastic 
scratch-scratching,  has  furnished  footholds  for  count 
less  Solomon  sores.  Still  furthermore,  he  has  just 
come  down  with  his  seventh  attack  of  fever.  If  I 
were  a  king,  the  worst  punishment  I  could  inflict  on 
my  enemies  would  be  to  banish  them  to  the  Solomons. 


CRUISING    IN    THE   SOLOMONS     283 

On  second  thought,  king  or  no  king,  I   don't  think 
I'd  have  the  heart  to  do  it.) 

Recruiting  plantation  laborers  on  a  small,  narrow 
yacht,  built  for  harbor  sailing,  is  not  any  too  nice. 
The  decks  swarm  with  recruits  and  their  families. 
The  main  cabin  is  packed  with  them.  At  night  they 


An  Island  in  Process  of  Manufacture. 

sleep  there.  The  only  entrance  to  our  tiny  cabin  is 
through  the  main  cabin,  and  we  jam  our  way  through 
them  or  walk  over  them.  Nor  is  this  nice.  One  and 
all,  they  are  afflicted  with  every  form  of  malignant  skin 
disease.  Some  have  ringworm,  others  have  bukua. 
This  latter  is  caused  by  a  vegetable  parasite  that  in 
vades  the  skin  and  eats  it  away.  The  itching  is  intol 
erable.  The  afflicted  ones  scratch  until  the  air  is  filled 
with  fine  dry  flakes.  Then  there  are  yaws  and  many 
other  skin  ulcerations.  Men  come  aboard  with 


284      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

Solomon  sores  in  their  feet  so  large  that  they  can  walk 
only  on  their  toes,  or  with  holes  in  their  legs  so  terrible 
that  a  fist  could  be  thrust  in  to  the  bone.  Blood- 
poisoning  is  very  frequent,  and  Captain  Jansen,  with 
sheath-knife  and  sail  needle,  operates  lavishly  on  one 
and  all.  No  matter  how  desperate  the  situation,  after 
opening  and  cleansing,  he  claps  on  a  poultice  of  sea- 
biscuit  soaked  in  water.  Whenever  we  see  a  particu 
larly  horrible  case,  we  retire  to  a  corner  and  deluge  our 
own  sores  with  corrosive  sublimate.  And  so  we  live 
and  eat  and  sleep  on  the  MiYiote,  taking  our  chance 
and  fc  pretending  it  is  good." 

At  Suava,  another  artificial  island,  I  had  a  second 
crow  over  Charmian.  A  big  fella  marster  belong 
Suava  (which  means  the  high  chief  of  Suava)  came  on 
board.  But  first  he  sent  an  emissary  to  Captain 
Jansen  for  a  fathom  of  calico  with  which  to  cover  his 
royal  nakedness.  Meanwhile  he  lingered  in  the  canoe 
alongside.  The  regal  dirt  on  his  chest  I  swear  was 
half  an  inch  thick,  while  it  was  a  good  wager  that  the 
underneath  layers  were  anywhere  from  ten  to  twenty 
years  of  age.  He  sent  his  emissary  on  board  again, 
who  explained  that  the  big  fella  marster  belong  Suava 
was  condescendingly  willing  enough  to  shake  hands 
with  Captain  Jansen  and  me  and  cadge  a  stick  or  so  of 
trade  tobacco,  but  that  nevertheless  his  high-born  soul 
was  still  at  so  lofty  an  altitude  that  it  could  not  sink 
itself  to  such  a  depth  of  degradation  as  to  shake  hands 
with  a  mere  female  woman.  Poor  Charmian  !  Since 
her  Malaita  experiences  she  has  become  a  changed 
woman.  Her  meekness  and  humbleness  is  appallingly 
becoming,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised,  when  we 
return  to  civilization  and  stroll  along  a  sidewalk,  to  see 


CRUISING    IN   THE    SOLOMONS     285 

her  take  her  station,  with  bowed  head,  a  yard  in  the 
rear. 

Nothing  much  happened  at  Suava.  Bichu,  the 
native  cook,  deserted.  The  Minota  dragged  anchor. 
It  blew  heavy  squalls  of  wind  and  rain.  The  mate, 
Mr.  Jacobsen,  and  Wada  were  prostrated  with  fever. 


Solomon  Islands  Canoe. 

Our  Solomon  sores  increased  and  multiplied.  And  the 
cockroaches  on  board  held  a  combined  Fourth  of  July 
and  Coronation  Parade.  They  selected  midnight  for 
the  time,  and  our  tiny  cabin  for  the  place.  They  were 
from  two  to  three  inches  long;  there  were  hundreds  of 
them,  and  they  walked  all  over  us.  When  we 
attempted  to  pursue  them,  they  left  solid  footing,  rose 
up  in  the  air,  and  fluttered  about  like  humming-birds. 
They  were  much  larger  than  ours  on  the  Snark.  But 
ours  are  young  yet,  and  haven't  had  a  chance  to  grow. 


286      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

Also,  the  Snark  has  centipedes,  big  ones,  six  inches 
long.  We  kill  them  occasionally,  usually  in  Charmian's 
bunk.  I've  been  bitten  twice  by  them,  both  times 
foully,  while  I  was  asleep.  But  poor  Martin  had 
worse  luck.  After  being  sick  in  bed  for  three  weeks, 
the  first  day  he  sat  up  he  sat  down  on  one.  Some 
times  I  think  they  are  the  wisest  who  never  go  to 
Carcassonne. 

Later,  on  we  returned  to  Malu,  picked  up  seven  re 
cruits,  hove  up  anchor,  and  started  to  beat  out  the 
treacherous  entrance.  The  wind  was  chopping  about, 
the  current  upon  the  ugly  point  of  reef  setting  strong. 
Just  as  we  were  on  the  verge  of  clearing  it  and  gaining 
open  sea,  the  wind  broke  off  four  points.  The  Minota 
attempted  to  go  about,  but  missed  stays.  Two  of  her 
anchors  had  been  lost  at  Tulagi.  Her  one  remaining 
anchor  was  let  go.  Chain  was  let  out  to  give  it  a  hold 
on  the  coral.  Her  fin  keel  struck  bottom,  and  her 
main  topmast  lurched  and  shivered  as  if  about  to  come 
down  upon  our  heads.  She  fetched  up  on  the  slack 
of  the  anchor  at  the  moment  a  big  comber  smashed 
her  shoreward.  The  chain  parted.  It  was  our  only 
anchor.  The  Minota  swung  around  on  her  heel  and 
drove  headlong  into  the  breakers. 

Bedlam  reigned.  All  the  recruits  below,  bushmen 
and  afraid  of  the  sea,  dashed  panic-stricken  on  deck 
and  got  in  everybody's  way.  At  the  same  time  the 
boat's  crew  made  a  rush  for  the  rifles.  They  knew 
what  going  ashore  on  Malaita  meant  —  one  hand  for 
the  ship  and  the  other  hand  to  fight  off  the  natives. 
What  they  held  on  with  I  don't  know,  and  they 
needed  to  hold  on  as  the  Minota  lifted,  rolled,  and 
pounded  on  the  coral.  The  bushmen  clung  in  the 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     287 

rigging,  too  witless  to  watch  out  for  the  topmast. 
The  whale-boat  was  run  out  with  a  tow-line  endeavor 
ing  in  a  puny  way  to  prevent  the  Minota  from  being 
flung  farther  in  toward  the  reef,  while  Captain  Jansen  and 
the  mate,  the  latter  pallid  and  weak  with  fever,  were 
resurrecting  a  scrap-anchor  from  out  the  ballast  and 
rigging  up  a  stock  for  it.  Mr.  Caulfeild,  with  his 
mission  boys,  arrived  in  his  whale-boat  to  help. 

When  the  Minota  first  struck,  there  was  not  a  canoe 
in  sight;  but  like  vultures  circling  down  out  of  the 
blue,  canoes  began  to  arrive  from  every  quarter.  The 
boat's  crew,  with  rifles  at  the  ready,  kept  them  lined 
up  a  hundred  feet  away  with  a  promise  of  death  if  they 
ventured  nearer.  And  there  they  clung,  a  hundred 
feet  away,  black  and  ominous,  crowded  with  men, 
holding  their  canoes  with  their  paddles  on  the  perilous 
edge  of  the  breaking  surf.  In  the  meantime  the  bush- 
men  were  flocking  down  from  the  hills,  armed  with 
spears,  Sniders,  arrows,  and  clubs,  until  the  beach  was 
massed  with  them.  To  complicate  matters,  at  least 
ten  of  our  recruits  had  been  enlisted  from  the  very 
bushmen  ashore  who  were  waiting  hungrily  for  the 
loot  of  the  tobacco  and  trade  goods  and  all  that  we 
had  on  board. 

The  Minota  was  honestly  built,  which  is  the  first 
essential  for  any  boat  that  is  pounding  on  a  reef. 
Some  idea  of  what  she  endured  may  be  gained  from 
the  fact  that  in  the  first  twenty-four  hours  she  parted 
two  anchor-chains  and  eight  hawsers.  Our  boat's  crew 
was  kept  busy  diving  for  the  anchors  and  bending  new 
lines.  There  were  times  when  she  parted  the  chains 
reenforced  with  hawsers.  And  yet  she  held  together. 
Tree  trunks  were  brought  from  ashore  and  worked 


288      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

under  her  to  save  her  keel  and  bilges,  but  the  trunks 
were  gnawed  and  splintered  and  the  ropes  that  held 
them  frayed  to  fragments,  and  still  she  pounded  and 
held  together.  But  we  were  luckier  than  the  Ivanhoe, 
a  big  recruiting  schooner,  which  had  gone  ashore  on 
Malaita  several  months  previously  and  been  promptly 


Men  of  Kewm  —  Solomons. 

rushed  by  the  natives.  The  captain  and  crew  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  away  in  the  whale-boats,  and  the 
bushmen  and  salt-water  men  looted  her  clean  of 
everything  portable. 

Squall  after  squall,  driving  wind  and  blinding  rain, 
smote  the  Minota,  while  a  heavier  sea  was  making. 
The  Eugenie  lay  at  anchor  five  miles  to  windward,  but 
she  was  behind  a  point  of  land  and  could  not  know 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     289 

of  our  mishap.  At  Captain  Jansen's  suggestion,  I 
wrote  a  note  to  Captain  Keller,  asking  him  to  bring 
extra  anchors  and  gear  to  our  aid.  But  not  a  canoe 
could  be  persuaded  to  carry  the  letter.  I  offered  half 
a  case  of  tobacco,  but  the  blacks  grinned  and  held 
their  canoes  bow-on  to  the  breaking  seas.  A  half  a 
case  of  tobacco  was  worth  three  pounds.  In  two 
hours,  even  against  the  strong  wind  and  sea,  a  man 
could  have  carried  the  letter  and  received  in  payment 
what  he  would  have  labored  half  a  year  for  on  a  planta 
tion.  I  managed  to  get  into  a  canoe  and  paddle  out 
to  where  Mr.  Caulfeild  was  running  an  anchor  with  his 
whale-boat.  My  idea  was  that  he  would  have  more 
influence  over  the  natives.  He  called  the  canoes  up  to 
him,  and  a  score  of  them  clustered  around  and  heard 
the  offer  of  half  a  case  of  tobacco.  No  one  spoke. 

"  I  know  what  you  think,"  the  missionary  called 
out  to  them.  "  You  think  plenty  tobacco  on  the 
schooner  and  you're  going  to  get  it.  I  tell  you 
plenty  rifles  on  schooner.  You  no  get  tobacco,  you 
get  bullets." 

At  last,  one  man,  alone  in  a  small  canoe,  took  the 
letter  and  started.  Waiting  for  relief,  work  went  on 
steadily  on  the  Minota.  Her  water-tanks  were  emptied, 
and  spars,  sails,  and  ballast  started  shoreward.  There 
were  lively  times  on  board  when  the  Minota  rolled  one 
bilge  down  and  then  the  other,  a  score  of  men  leaping 
for  life  and  legs  as  the  trade-boxes,  booms,  and  eighty- 
pound  pigs  of  iron  ballast  rushed  across  from  rail  to 
rail  and  back  again.  The  poor  pretty  harbor  yacht ! 
Her  decks  and  running  rigging  were  a  raffle.  Down 
below  everything  was  disrupted.  The  cabin  floor  had 
been  torn  up  to  get  at  the  ballast,  and  rusty  bilge-water 


290      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     291 

swashed  and  splashed.  A  bushel  of  limes,  in  a  mess  of 
flour  and  water,  charged  about  like  so  many  sticky 
dumplings  escaped  from  a  half-cooked  stew.  In  the 
inner  cabin,  Nakata  kept  guard  over  our  rifles  and 
ammunition. 

Three  hours  from  the  time  our  messenger  started,  a 
whale-boat,  pressing  along  under  a  huge  spread  of  canvas, 
broke  through  the  thick  of  a  shrieking  squall  to  wind 
ward.  It  was  Captain  Keller,  wet  with  rain  and  spray, 
a  revolver  in  his  belt,  his  boat's  crew  fully  armed,  an 
chors  and  hawsers  heaped  high  amidships,  coming  as 
fast  as  wind  could  drive  —  the  white  man,  the  inevitable 
white  man,  coming  to  a  white  man's  rescue. 

The  vulture  line  of  canoes  that  had  waited  so  long 
broke  and  disappeared  as  quickly  as  it  had  formed. 
The  corpse  was  not  dead  after  all.  We  now  had  three 
whale-boats,  two  plying  steadily  between  the  vessel  and 
shore,  the  other  kept  busy  running  out  anchors,  rebend- 
ing  parted  hawsers,  and  recovering  the  lost  anchors. 
Later  in  the  afternoon,  after  a  consultation,  in  which 
we  took  into  consideration  that  a  number  of  our  boat's 
crew,  as  well  as  ten  of  the  recruits,  belonged  to  this 
place,  we  disarmed  the  boat's  crew.  This,  incidently, 
gave  them  both  hands  free  to  work  for  the  vessel. 
The  rifles  were  put  in  the  charge  of  five  of  Mr.  Caul- 
feild's  mission  boys.  And  down  below  in  the  wreck 
of  the  cabin  the  missionary  and  his  converts  prayed  to 
God  to  save  the  Minota.  It  was  an  impressive  scene: 
the  unarmed  man  of  God  praying  with  cloudless  faith, 
his  savage  'followers  leaning  on  their  rifles  and  mum 
bling  amens.  The  cabin  walls  reeled  about  them.  The 
vessel  lifted  and  smashed  upon  the  coral  with  every  sea. 
From  on  deck  came  the  shouts  of  men  heaving  and 


292      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

toiling,  praying,  in  another    fashion,  with  purposeful 
will  and  strength  of  arm. 

That  night  Mr.  Caulfeild  brought  off  a  warning. 
One  of  our  recruits  had  a  price  on  his  head  of  fifty 
fathoms  of  shell-money  and  forty  pigs.  Baffled  in 
their  desire  to  capture  the  vessel,  the  bushmen  decided 


Salt-water  Women  on  their  Way  to  Market,  Malu,  Malaita. 

to  get  the  head  of  the  man.  When  killing  begins,  there 
is  no  telling  where  it  will  end,  so  Captain  Jansen  armed 
a  whale-boat  and  rowed  in  to  the  edge  of  the  beach. 
Ugi,  one  of  his  boat's  crew,  stood  up  and  orated  for 
him.  Ugi  was  excited.  Captain  Jansen's  warning 
that  any  canoe  sighted  that  night  would  be  pumped 
full  of  lead,  Ugi  turned  into  a  bellicose  declaration  of 
war,  which  wound  up  with  a  peroration  somewhat  to  the 
following  effect :  "  You  kill  my  captain,  I  drink  his 
blood  and  die  with  him  !  " 


CRUISING    IN    THE    SOLOMONS     293 

The  bushmen  contented  themselves  with  burning  an 
unoccupied  mission  house,  and  sneaked  back  to  the 
bush.  The  next  day  the  Eugenie  sailed  in  and  dropped 
anchor.  Three  days  and  two  nights  the  Minota 
pounded  on  the  reef;  but  she  held  together,  and  the 
shell  of  her  was  pulled  off  at  last  and  anchored  in 
smooth  water.  There  we  said  good-by  to  her  and  all 
on  board,  and  sailed  away  on  the  Eugenie,  bound  for 
Florida  Island.1 

1  To  point  out  that  we  of  the  Snark  are  not  a  crowd  of  weaklings, 
which  might  be  concluded  from  our  divers  afflictions,  I  quote  the 
following,  which  I  gleaned  verbatim  from  the  Eugenie1 s  log  and  which 
may  be  considered  as  a  sample  of  Solomon  Islands  cruising  : 

Ulava,  Thursday,  March  12,   1908. 

Boat  went     ashore    in    the  morning.      Got    two    loads    ivory  nut, 

4000  copra.      Skipper  down  with  fever. 
Ulava,  Friday,  March  13,  1908. 

Buying  nuts  from  bushmen,  i^-  ton.      Mate  and  skipper  down  with 

fever. 
Ulava,  Saturday,  March  14,  1908. 

At  noon  hove  up  and  proceeded  with  a  very  light  E.N.E.  wind  for 
Ngora-Ngora.      Anchored  in  8  fathoms  —  shell  and  coral.      Mate 
down  with  fever. 
Ngora-Ngora,  Sunday,  March  15,   1908. 

At  daybreak  found  that  the  boy  Bagua  had  died  during  the  night,  on 
dysentery.      He  was  about    14  days  sick.      At  sunset,  big  N.W. 
squall.      (Second  anchor  ready)  Lasting  one  hour  and  30  minutes. 
At  sea,  Monday,  March  16,  1908. 

Set  course  for  Sikiana  at  4  P.M.      Wind  broke  off.      Heavy  squalls 

during  the  night.      Skipper  down  on  dysentery,  also  one  man. 
At  sea,  Tuesday,  March  17,  1908. 

Skipper  and  2  crew  down  on  dysentery.      Mate  fever. 
At  sea,  Wednesday,  March  18,   1908. 

Big  sea.  Lee-rail  under  water  all  the  time.  Ship  under  reefed 
mainsail,  staysail,  and  inner  jib.  Skipper  and  3  men  dysentery. 
Mate  fever. 


294      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

At  sea,  Thursday,  March  14,  1908. 

Too  thick  to  see  anything.      Blowing  a  living  a  gale  all  the  time. 
Pump  plugged  up  and  bailing  with  buckets.      Skipper  and  five 
boys  down  on  dysentery. 
At  sea,  Friday,  March  20,  1908. 

During  night  squalls  with  hurricane  force.      Skipper  and  six  men 

down  on  dysentery. 
At  sea,  Saturday,  March  21,  1908. 

Turned  back  from  Sikiana.      Squalls  all   day   with  heavy  rain  and 
sea.      Skipper  and  best  part  of  crew  on  dysentery.      Mate  fever. 

And  so,  day  by  day,  with  the  majority  of  all  on  board  prostrated, 
the  Eugenie's  log  goes  on.  The  only  variety  occurred  on  March  31, 
when  the  mate  came  down  with  dysentery  and  the  skipper  was  floored 
by  fever. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

Beche  de  Mer  English 

GIVEN  a  number  of  white  traders,  a  wide  area  of 
land,  and  scores  of  savage  languages  and  dialects, 
the  result  will  be  that  the  traders  will  manufacture  a 
totally  new,  unscientific,  but  perfectly  adequate,  lan 
guage.  This  the  traders  did  when  they  invented  the 
Chinook  lingo  for  use  over  British  Columbia,  Alaska, 
and  the  Northwest  Territory.  So  with  the  lingo  of 
the  Kroo-boys  of  Africa,  the  pigeon  English  of  the 
Far  East,  and  the  beche  de  mer  of  the  westerly  por 
tion  of  the  South  Seas.  This  latter  is  often  called 
pigeon  English,  but  pigeon  English  it  certainly  is  not. 
To  show  how  totally  different  it  is,  mention  need  be 
made  only  of  the  fact  that  the  classic  piecee  of  China 
has  no  place  in  it. 

There  was  once  a  sea  captain  who  needed  a  dusky 
potentate  down  in  his  cabin.  The  potentate  was  on 
deck.  The  captain's  command  to  the  Chinese  steward 
was  :  "  Hey,  boy,  you  go  top-side  catchee  one  piecee 
king."  Had  the  steward  been  a  New  Hebridean  or 
a  Solomon  islander,  the  command  would  have  been  : 
"  Hey,  you  fella  boy,  go  look  'm  eye  belong  you  along 
deck,  bring  'm  me  fella  one  big  fella  marster  belong 
black  man." 

It  was  the  first  white  men  who  ventured  through 
Melanesia  after  the  early  explorers,  who  developed 
beche  de  mer  English  —  men  such  as  the  beche  de 
mer  fishermen,  the  sandalwood  traders,  the  pearl 

295 


296      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


A  Malaita  Man. 


hunters,  and  the  labor  recruiters.  In  the  Solomons, 
for  instance,  scores  of  languages  and  dialects  are  spoken. 
Unhappy  the  trader  who  tried  to  learn  them  all ;  for 


BECHE    DE    MER    ENGLISH          297 


in  the  next  group  to  which  he  might  wander  he  would 
find  scores  of  additional  tongues.  A  common  lan 
guage  was  necessary  —  a  language  so  simple  that  a 
child  could  learn  it,  with  a  vocabulary  as  limited  as  the 
intelligence  of  the  savages  upon  whom  it  was  to  be  used. 
The  traders  did  not 
reason  this  out.  Beche 
de  mer  English  was  the 
product  of  conditions 
and  circumstances. 
Function  precedes  or 
gan;  and  the  need  for 
a  universal  Melanesian 
lingo  preceded  beche  de 
mer  English.  Beche 
de  mer  was  purely  for 
tuitous,  but  it  was  for 
tuitous  in  the  deter 
ministic  way.  Also, 
from  the  fact  that  out 
of  the  need  the  lingo 
arose,  beche  de  mer 
English  is  a  splendid 
argument  for  the  Es 
peranto  enthusiasts. 

A  limited  vocabulary  means  that  each  word  shall  be 
overworked.  Thus,  fella,  in  beche  de  mer,  means  all 
that  piecee  does  and  quite  a  bit  more,  and  is  used  con 
tinually  in  every  possible  connection.  Another  over 
worked  word  is  belong.  Nothing  stands  alone.  Every 
thing  is  related.  The  thing  desired  is  indicated  by  its 
relationship  with  other  things.  A  primitive  vocabu 
lary  means  primitive  expression,  thus,  the  continuance 


A  Malaita  "  Mary." 


298      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


of  rain  is  expressed  as  rain  he  stop.  Sun  be  come  up 
cannot  possibly  be  misunderstood,  while  the  phrase- 
structure  itself  can  be  used  without  mental  exertion  in 
ten  thousand  different  ways,  as,  for  instance,  a  native  who 
desires  to  tell  you  that  there  are  fish  in  the  water  and 

who  says  fish  he  stop. 
It  was  while  trading 
on  Ysabel  island  that 
I  learned  the  excellence 
of  this  usage.  I  wanted 
two  or  three  pairs  of 
the  large  clam-shells 
(measuring  three  feet 
across),  but  I  did  not 
want  the  meat  inside. 
Also,  I  wanted  the 
meat  of  some  of  the 
smaller  clams  to  make 
a  chowder.  My  in 
struction  to  the  natives 
finally  ripened  into  the 
following:  "You  fella 
bring  me  fella  big  fella 

Veiia  Laveiia  Man.  clam  —  kai-kai   he    no 

stop,    he    walk    about. 

You  fella  bring  me  fella  small  fella  clam  —  kai-kai  he 
stop." 

Kai-kai  is  the  Polynesian  for  food,  meat,  eating,  and 
to  eat ;  but  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  it  was  in 
troduced  into  Melanesia  by  the  sandalwood  traders  or 
by  the  Polynesian  westward  drift.  Walk  about  is  a 
quaint  phrase.  Thus,  if  one  orders  a  Solomon  sailor 
to  put  a  tackle  on  a  boom,  he  will  suggest,  "  That  fella 


BfiCHE    DE    MER    ENGLISH 


299 


boom  he  walk  about  too  much."  And  if  the  said 
sailor  asks  for  shore  liberty,  he  will  state  that  it  is  his 
desire  to  walk  about.  Or  if  said  sailor  be  seasick,  he 
will  explain  his  condition  by  stating,  "  Belly  belong  me 
walk  about  too  much." 

'Too  much,  by  the  way,  does  not  indicate  anything 
excessive.  It  is  merely  the  simple  superlative.  Thus, 
if  a  native  is  asked  the  distance  to  a  certain  village,  his 

answer     will     be     one    

of  these  four: 


up"; 

bit": 


"Close 

"  long  way  little 
"  long  way  big 
bit";  or  "long  way  too 
much."  Long  way  too 
much  does  not  mean 
that  one  cannot  walk 
to  the  village;  it  means 
that  he  will  have  to 
walk  farther  than  if 
the  village  were  a  long 
way  big  bit. 

Gammon  is  to  lie, 
to  exaggerate,  to  joke. 
Mary  is  a  woman. 
Any  woman  is  a  Mary. 
All  women  are  Marys. 
Doubtlessly  the  first 
dim  white  adventurer 
whimsically  called  a  native  woman  Mary,  and  of  similar 
birth  must  have  been  many  other  words  in  beche  de 
mer.  The  white  men  were  all  seamen,  and  so  capsize 
and  sing  out  were  introduced  into  the  lingo.  One 
would  not  tell  a  Melanesian  cook  to  empty  the  dish- 


From  Fin  Bori  —  Malaita. 


300      THE   CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


water,  but  he  would  tell  him  to  capsize  it.  To  sing 
out  is  to  cry  loudly,  to  call  out,  or  merely  to  speak. 
Sing-sing  is  a  song.  The  native  Christian  does  not 

think  of  God  calling  for  Adam 
in  the  Garden  of  Eden ;  in  the 
native's  mind,  God  sings  out 
for  Adam. 

Savvee  or  catcbee  are  practi 
cally  the  only  words  which  have 
been   introduced   straight    from 
pigeon     English.       Of    course, 
pickaninny  has  happened  along, 
but  some  of  its  uses  are   deli 
cious.     Having  bought 
a  fowl  from  a  native  in 
a     canoe,     the     native 
asked  me  if  I  wanted 
"  Pickaninny     stop 
along    him    fella."     It 
was  not  until  he  showed 
me  a  handful  of  hen's 
eggs  that  I  understood 
his  meaning.    My  word, 
as  an  exclamation  with 
a      thousand      signifi 
cances,  could  have  ar 
rived     from     nowhere 
else  than  old  England. 
A  paddle,  a  sweep,  or  an  oar,  is  called  washee,  and 
\washee  is  also  the  verb. 

Here  is  a  letter,  dictated  by  one  Peter,  a  native 
trader  at  Santa  Anna,  and  addressed  to  his  employer. 
Harry,  the  schooner  captain,  started  to  write  the  letter, 


Beau  of  Malaita. 


BECHE    DE    MER   ENGLISH          301 

but  was  stopped  by  Peter  at  the  end  of  the  second 
sentence.  Thereafter  the  letter  runs  in  Peter's  own 
words,  for  Peter  was  afraid  that  Harry  gammoned  too 
much,  and  he  wanted  the  straight  story  of  his  needs  to 
go  to  headquarters. 

"  SANTA  ANNA 

"Trader  Peter  has  worked  12  months  for  your  firm  and  has  not 
received  any  pay  yet.  He  hereby  wants  ^12."  (At  this  point 
Peter  began  dictation).  *'  Harry  he  gammon  along  him  all  the 
time  too  much.  I  like  him  6  tin  biscuit,  4  bag  rice,  24  tin  bullama- 
cow.  Me  like  him  2  rifle,  me  savvee  look  out  along  boat,  some  place 
me  go  man  he  no  good,  he  kai-kai  along  me. 

"  PETER." 

Bullamacow  means  tinned  beef.  This  word  was 
corrupted  from  the  English  language  by  the  Samoans, 
and  from  them  learned  by  the  traders,  who  carried 
it  along  with  them  into  Melanesia.  Captain  Cook 
and  the  other  early  navigators  made  a  practice  of  in 
troducing  seeds,  plants,  and  domestic  animals  amongst 
the  natives.  It  was  at  Samoa  that  one  such  navigator 
landed  a  bull  and  a  cow.  "  This  is  a  bull  and  cow/* 
said  he  to  the  Samoans.  They  thought  he  was  giving 
the  name  of  the  breed,  and  from  that  day  to  this,  beef 
on  the  hoof  and  beef  in  the  tin  is  called  bullamacow. 

A  Solomon  islander  cannot  say  fence^  so,  in  beche 
de  mer,  it  becomes  fennis ;  store  is  sittore,  and  box  is 
bokkis.  Just  now  the  fashion  in  chests,  which  are 
known  as  boxes,  is  to  have  a  bell  arrangement  on  the 
lock  so  that  the  box  cannot  be  opened  without  sound 
ing  an  alarm.  A  box  so  equipped  is  not  spoken  of  as 
a  mere  box,  but  as  the  bokkis  belong  bell. 

J  right  is  the  beche  de  mer  for  fear.  If  a  native 
appears  timid  and  one  asks  him  the  cause,  he  is  liable 


302 


THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


to  hear  in  reply  :  "  Me  fright  along  you  too  much." 
Or  the  native  may  be  fright  along  storm,  or  wild  bush, 

or  haunted  places. 
Cross  covers  every 
form  of  anger.  A 
man  may  be  cross 
at  one  when  he  is 
feeling  only  petu 
lant  ;  or  he  may  be 
cross  when  he  is 
seeking  to  chop 
off  your  head  and 
make  a  stew  out 
of  you.  A  recruit, 
after  having  toiled 
three  years  on  a 
plantation,  was  re 
turned  to  his  own 
village  on  Malaita. 
He  was  clad  in  all 
kinds  of  gay  and 
sportive  garments. 
On  his  head  was 
a  top-hat.  He  possessed  a  trade-box  full  of  calico, 
beads,  porpoise-teeth,  and  tobacco.  Hardly  was  the 
anchor  down,  when  the  villagers  were  on  board.  The 
recruit  looked  anxiously  for  his  own  relatives,  but 
none  was  to  be  seen.  One  of  the  natives  took  the 
pipe  out  of  his  mouth.  Another  confiscated  the  strings 
of  beads  from  around  his  neck.  A  third  relieved  him 
of  his  gaudy  loin-cloth,  and  a  fourth  tried  on  the  top- 
hat  and  omitted  to  return  it.  Finally,  one  of  them 
took  his  trade-box,  which  represented  three  years'  toil, 


He  knew  the  Sandalwood  Traders  and 
Beche  de  Mer  Fishermen. 


BECHE    DE    MER    ENGLISH          303 


and  dropped  it  into  a  canoe  alongside.  "  That  fella 
belong  you  ?  "  the  captain  asked  the  recruit,  referring 
to  the  thief.  "  No  belong  me/'  was  the  answer. 
"  Then  why  in  Jericho  do  you  let  him  take  the  box  ?  " 
the  captain  demanded  indignantly.  Quoth  the  recruit, 
"  Me  speak  along  him,  say  bokkis  he  stop,  that  fella 
he  cross  along  me  "  — which  was  the  recruit's  way  of 
saying  that  the  other  man  would  murder  him.  God's 
wrath,  when  he  sent  the  Flood,  was  merely  a  case  of 
being  cross  along  mankind. 

What  name  is  the  great  interrogation  of  beche  de 

mer.      It    all     de-    r_ __ 

pends  on  how  it 
is  uttered.  It 
may  mean  :  What 
is  your  business  ? 
What  do  you  mean 
by  this  outrageous 
conduct  ?  What 
do  you  want? 
What  is  the  thing 


you  are  after?  You 
had  best  watch  out; 
I  demand  an  ex 
planation  ;  and  a 
few  hundred  other 
things.  Call  a  na 
tive  out  of  his 
house  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  night, 
and  he  is  likely  to 
demand,  "  What  name  you  sing  out  along. me  ?  " 
Imagine  the  predicament  of  the  Germans  on 


He  might  have  been  Gladstone. 


the 


3°4 


THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 


plantations  of  Bougainville  island,  who  are  compelled 
to  learn  beche  de  mer  English  in  order  to  handle  the 
native  laborers.  It  is  to  them  an  unscientific  polyglot, 
and  there  are  no  text-books  by  which  to  study  it. 
It  is  a  source  of  unholy  delight  to  the  other  white 

planters  and  traders  to 
hear  the  German  wrest 
ling  stolidly  with  the 
circumlocutions  and 
short-cuts  of  a  language 
that  has  no  grammar 
and  no  dictionary. 

Some  years  ago  large 
numbers  of  Solomon 
islanders  were  recruited 
to  labor  on  the  sugar 
plantations  of  Queens 
land.  A  missionary 
urged  one  of  the  labor 
ers,  who  was  a  convert, 
to  get  up  and  preach  a 
sermon  to  a  shipload  of 
Solomon  islanders  who 
Old  Woman  of  Veiia  Laveiia.  had  just  arrived.  He 

chose  for  his  subject  the 

Fall  of  Man,  and  the  address  he  gave  became  a  classic 
in  all  Australasia.  It  proceeded  somewhat  in  the 
following  manner  : 

"  Altogether  you  boy  belong  Solomons  you  no 
savvee  white  man.  Me  fella  me  savvee  him.  Me 
fella  me  savvee  talk  along  white  man. 

"  Before  long  time  altogether  no  place  he  stop.  God 
big  fella  marster  belong  white  man,  him  fella  He  make  'm 


BECHE    DE    MER    ENGLISH          305 

altogether.  God  big  fella  marster  belong  white  man, 
He  make'm  big  fella  garden.  He  good  fella  too  much. 
Along  garden  plenty  yam  he  stop,  plenty  cocoanut, 
plenty  taro,  plenty  kumara  (sweet  potatoes),  altogether 
good  fella  kai-kai  too  much. 

"  Bimeby  God  big  fella  marster  belong  white  man 
He  make  'm  one  fella  man  and  put  'm  along  garden  be 
long  Him.  He  call  'm  this  fella  man  Adam.  He 
name  belong  him.  He  put  him  this  fella  man  Adam 
along  garden,  and  He  speak,  c  This  fella  garden  he  be 
long  you/  And  He  look  'm  this  fella  Adam  he  walk 
about  too  much.  Him  fella  Adam  all  the  same  sick ; 
he  no  savvee  kai-kai  ;  he  walk  about  all  the  time. 
And  God  He  no  savvee.  God  big  fella  marster  belong 
white  man,  He  scratch  'm  head  belong  Him.  God 
say  :  '  What  name  ?  Me  no  savvee  what  name  this 
fella  Adam  he  want/ 

"  Bimeby  God  He  scratch  'm  head  belong  Him  too 
much,  and  speak:  £  Me  fella  me  savvee,  him  fella 
Adam  him  want  'm  Mary/  So  He  make  Adam  he 
go  asleep,  He  take  one  fella  bone  belong  him,  and 
He  make  'm  one  fella  Mary  along  bone.  He  call  him 
this  fella  Mary,  Eve.  He  give  'm  this  fella  Eve  along 
Adam,  and  He  speak  along  him  fella  Adam  :  '  Close 
up  altogether  along  this  fella  garden  belong  you  two 
fella.  One  fella  tree  he  tambo  (taboo)  along  you  al 
together.  This  fella  tree  belong  apple/ 

"  So  Adam  Eve  two  fella  stop  along  garden,  and 
they  two  fella  have  'm  good  time  too  much.  Bimeby, 
one  day,  Eve  she  come  along  Adam,  and  she  speak, 
'  More  good  you  me  two  fella  we  eat  'm  this  fella 
apple/  Adam  he  speak,  '  No/  and  Eve  she  speak} 
*  What  name  you  no  like  'm  me  ? '  And  Adam  he  speak} 


jo6      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

c  Me  like  'm  you  too  much,  but  me  fright  along  God.' 
And  Eve  she  speak,  c  Gammon!  What  name  ?  God 
He  no  savvee  look  along  us  two  fella  all  'm  time.  God 
big  fella  marster,  He  gammon  along  you.'  But  Adam 
he  speak,  '  No.'  But  Eve  she  talk,  talk,  talk,  allee 
time  —  allee  same  Mary  she  talk  along  boy  along 


"  Marys." 

Queensland  and  make  'm  trouble  along  boy.  And 
bimeby  Adam  he  tired  too  much,  and  he  speak,  c  All 
right/  So  these  two  fella  they  go  eat  'm.  When  they 
finish  eat  'm,  my  word,  they  fright  like  hell,  and  they 
go  hide  along  scrub. 

"  And  God  he  come  walk  about  along  garden,  and 
He  sing  out,  c  Adam  !  '  Adam  he  no  speak.  He  too 
much  fright.  My  word  !  And  God  He  sing  out, 
'Adam  !  '  And  Adam  he  speak,  c  You  call  'm  me?' 


BECHE    DE    MER   ENGLISH          307 

God  He  speak,  c  Me  call  'm  you  too  much.'  Adam 
he  speak,  c  Me  sleep  strong  fella  too  much/  And 
God  He  speak,  'You  been  eat  'm  this  fella  apple.' 
Adam  he  speak,  c  No,  me  no  been  eat  'm.'  God  He 
speak.  c  What  name  you  gammon  along  me  ?  You 
been  eat 'm.'  And  Adam  he  speak,  c  Yes,  me  been 
eat  'm/ 

<c  And  God  big  fella  marster  he  cross  along  Adam 
Eve  two  fella  too  much,  and  he  speak,  c  You  two  fella 
finish  along  me  altogether.  You  go  catch  'm  bokkis 
(box)  belong  you,  and  get  to  hell  along  scrub/ 

"  So  Adam  Eve  these  two  fella  go  along  scrub.  And 
God  He  make  'm  one  big  fennis  (fence)  all  around 
garden  and  He  put  'm  one  fella  marster  belong  God 
along  fennis.  And  He  give  this  fella  marster  belong 
God  one  big  fella  musket,  and  He  speak,  c  S'-pose  you 
look  'm  these  two  fella  Adam  Eve,  you  shoot  'm  plenty 
too  much.' 


CHAPTER   XVII 
The  Amateur  M.D. 

WHEN  we  sailed  from  San  Francisco  on  the  Snark 
I  knew  as  much  about  sickness  as  the  Admiral  of  the 
Swiss  Navy  knows  about  salt  water.  And  here,  at  the 
start,  let  me  advise  any  one  who  meditates  going  to 
out-of-the-way  tropic  places.  Go  to  a  first-class  drug 
gist —  the  sort  that  have  specialists  on  their  salary  list 
who  know  everything.  Talk  the  matter  over  with 
such  an  one.  Note  carefully  all  that  he  says.  Have 
a  list  made  of  all  that  he  recommends.  Write  out  a 
check  for  the  total  cost,  and  tear  it  up. 

I  wish  I  had  done  the  same.  I  should  have  been 
far  wiser,  I  know  now,  if  I  had  bought  one  of  those 
ready-made,  self-acting,  f6ol-proof  medicine  chests  such 
as  are  favored  by  fourth-rate  ship-masters.  In  such  a 
chest  each  bottle  has  a  number.  On  the  inside  of  the 
lid  is  placed  a  simple  table  of  directions  :  No.  i,  tooth 
ache  ;  No.  2,  smallpox ;  No.  3,  stomachache ;  No.  4, 
cholera ;  No.  5,  rheumatism  ;  and  so  on,  through  the 
list  "of  human  ills.  And  I  might  have  used  it  as  did 
a  certain  venerable  skipper,  who,  when  No.  3  was 
empty,  mixed  a  dose  from  No.  i  and  No.  2,  or, 
when  No.  7  was  all  gone,  dosed  his  crew  with  4 
and  3  till  3  gave  out,  when  he  used  5  and  2. 

So  far,  with  the  exception  of  corrosive  sublimate 
(which  was  recommended  as  an  antiseptic  in  surgical 
operations,  and  which  I  have  not  yet  used  for  that 
purpose),  my  medicine-chest  has  been  useless.  It  has 

308 


THE   AMATEUR    M.D.  309 

been  worse  than  useless,  for  it  has  occupied  much  space 
which  I  could  have  used  to  advantage. 

With  my  surgical  instruments  it  is  different.  While 
I  have  not  yet  had  serious  use  for  them,  I  do  not  regret 
the  space  they  occupy.  The  thought  of  them  makes 
me  feel  good.  They  are  so  much  life  insurance,  only, 
fairer  than  that  last  grim  game,  one  is  not  supposed  to 
die  in  order  to  win.  Of  course,  I  don't  know  how  to 
use  them,  and  what  I  don't  know  about  surgery  would 
set  up  a  dozen  quacks  in  prosperous  practice.  But 
needs  must  when  the  devil  drives,  and  we  of  the  Snark 
have  no  warning  when  the  devil  may  take  it  into  his 
head  to  drive,  ay,  even  a  thousand  miles  from  land  and 
twenty  days  from  the  nearest  port. 

I  did  not  know  anything  about  dentistry,  but  a 
friend  fitted  me  out  with  forceps  and  similar  weapons, 
and  in  Honolulu  I  picked  up  a  book  upon  teeth.  Also, 
in  that  sub-tropical  city  I  managed  to  get  hold  of  a 
skull,  from  which  I  extracted  the  teeth  swiftly  and  pain 
lessly.  Thus  equipped,  I  was  ready,  though  not  ex 
actly  eager,  to  tackle  any  tooth  that  got  in  my  way. 
It  was  in  Nuku-hiva,  in  the  Marquesas,  that  my  first 
case  presented  itself  in  the  shape  of  a  little,  old  Chinese. 
The  first  thing  I  did  was  to  get  the  buck  fever,  and  I 
leave  it  to  any  fair-minded  person  if  buck  fever,  with 
its  attendant  heart-palpitations  and  arm-tremblings,  is 
the  right  condition  for  a  man  to  be  in  who  is  endeavor 
ing  to  pose  as  an  old  hand  at  the  business.  I  did  not 
fool  the  aged  Chinaman.  He  was  as  frightened  as  I 
and  a  bit  more  shaky.  I  almost  forgot  to  be  frightened 
in  the  fear  that  he  would  bolt.  I  swear,  if  he  had  tried 
to,  that  I  would  have  tripped  him  up  and  sat  on  him 
until  calmness  and  reason  returned. 


jio      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

I  wanted  that  tooth.  Also,  Martin  wanted  a  snap 
shot  of  me  getting  it.  Likewise  Charmian  got  her 
camera.  Then  the  procession  started.  We  were  stop 
ping  at  what  had  been  the  club-house  when  Stevenson 
was  in  the  Marquesas  on  the  Casco.  On  the  veranda, 
where  he  had  passed  so  many  pleasant  hours,  the  light 
was  not  good  —  for  snapshots,  I  mean.  I  led  on  into 
the  garden,  a  chair  in  one  hand,  the  other  hand  filled 
with  forceps  of  various  sorts,  my  knees  knocking  to 
gether  disgracefully.  The  poor  old  Chinaman  came 
second,  and  he  was  shaking,  too.  Charmian  and 
Martin  brought  up  the  rear,  armed  with  kodaks.  We 
dived  under  the  avocado  trees,  threaded  our  way 
through  the  cocoanut  palms,  and  came  on  a  spot  that 
satisfied  Martin's  photographic  eye. 

I  looked  at  the  tooth,  and  then  discovered  that  I 
could  not  remember  anything  about  the  teeth  I  had 
pulled  from  the  skull  five  months  previously.  Did  it 
have  one  prong?  two  prongs?  or  three  prongs?  What 
was  left  of  the  part  that  showed  appeared  very  crumbly, 
and  I  knew  that  I  should  have  to  take  hold  of  the 
tooth  deep  down  in  the  gum.  It  was  very  necessary 
that  I  should  know  how  many  prongs  that  tooth  had. 
Back  to  the  house  I  went  for  the  book  on  teeth.  The 
poor  old  victim  looked  like  photographs  I  had  seen  of 
fellow  countrymen  of  his,  criminals,  on  their  knees, 
waiting  the  stroke  of  the  beheading  sword. 

"  Don't  let  him  get  away,"  I  cautioned  to  Martin. 
"  I  want  that  tooth." 

"  I  sure  won't,"  he  replied  with  enthusiasm,  from 
behind  his  camera.  "  I  want  that  photograph." 

For  the  first  time  I  felt  sorry  for  the  Chinaman. 
Though  the  book  did  not  tell  me  anything  about  pull- 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  31 1 

ing  teeth,  it  was  all  right,  for  on  one  page  I  found  draw 
ings  of  all  the  teeth,  including  their  prongs  and  how 
they  were  set  in  the  jaw.  Then  came  the  pursuit  of 
the  forceps.  I  had  seven  pairs,  but  was  in  doubt  as  to 
which  pair  I  should  use.  I  did  not  want  any  mistake. 
As  I  turned  the  hardware  over  with  rattle  and  clang, 


Pulling  my  First  Tooth. 

the  poor  victim  began  to  lose  his  grip  and  to  turn  a 
greenish  yellow  around  the  gills.  He  complained 
about  the  sun,  but  that  was  necessary  for  the  photo 
graph,  and  he  had  to  stand  it.  I  fitted  the  forceps 
around  the  tooth,  and  the  patient  shivered  and  began 
to  wilt. 

"  Ready  ?  "  I  called  to  Martin. 

"  All  ready,"  he  answered. 


ji2     THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

I  gave  a  pull.  Ye  gods  !  The  tooth  was  loose  ! 
Out  it  came  on  the  instant.  I  was  jubilant  as  I  held 
it  aloft  in  the  forceps. 

"  Put  it  back,  please,  oh,  put  it  back/'  Martin 
pleaded.  "  You  were  too  quick  for  me." 

And  the  poor  old  Chinaman  sat  there  while  I  put 
the  tooth  back  and  pulled  over.  Martin  snapped  the 
camera.  The  deed  was  done.  Elation  ?  Pride  ?  No 
hunter  was  ever  prouder  of  his  first  pronged  buck  than 
I  was  of  that  three-pronged  tooth.  I  did  it !  I  did 
it !  With  my  own  hands  and  a  pair  of  forceps  I  did 
it,  to  say  nothing  of  the  forgotten  memories  of  the  dead 
man's  skull. 

My  next  case  was  a  Tahitian  sailor.  He  was  a  small 
man,  in  a  state  of  collapse  from  long  days  and  nights 
of  jumping  toothache.  I  lanced  the  gums  first.  I 
didn't  know  how  to  lance  them,  but  I  lanced  them  just 
the  same.  It  was  a  long  pull  and  a  strong  pull.  The 
man  was  a  hero.  He  groaned  and  moaned,  and  I 
thought  he  was  going  to  faint.  But  he  kept  his  mouth 
open  and  let  me  pull.  And  then  it  came. 

After  that  I  was  ready  to  meet  all  comers — just  the 
proper  state  of  mind  for  a  Waterloo.  And  it  came. 
Its  name  was  Tomi.  He  was  a  strapping  giant  of  a 
heathen  with  a  bad  reputation.  He  was  addicted  to 
deeds  of  violence.  Among  other  things  he  had  beaten 
two  of  his  wives  to  death  with  his  fists.  His  father 
and  mother  had  been  naked  cannibals.  When  he  sat 
down  and  I  put  the  forceps  into  his  mouth,  he  was 
nearly  as  tall  as  I  was  standing  up.  Big  men,  prone 
to  violence,  very  often  have  a  streak  of  fat  in  their 
make-up,  so  I  was  doubtful  of  him.  Charmian  grabbed 
one  arm  and  Warren  grabbed  the  other.  Then  the 


THE   AMATEUR    M.D.  313 

tug  of  war  began.  The  instant  the  forceps  closed  down 
on  the  tooth,  his  jaws  closed  down  on  the  forceps. 
Also,  both  his  hands  flew  up  and  gripped  my  pulling 
hand.  I  held  on,  and  he  held  on.  Charmian  and 
Warren  held  on.  We  wrestled  all  about  the  shop. 

It  was  three  against  one,  and  my  hold  on  an  aching 
tooth    was   certainly  a  foul    one ;   but  in  spite  of  the 


Careening  the  Snark. 

handicap  he  got  away  with  us.  The  forceps  slipped 
off,  banging  and  grinding  along  against  his  upper  teeth 
with  a  nerve-scraping  sound.  Out  of  his  mouth  flew 
the  forceps,  and  he  rose  up  in  the  air  with  a  blood 
curdling  yell.  The  three  of  us  fell  back.  We  expected 
to  be  massacred.  But  that  howling  savage  of  sangui 
nary  reputation  sank  back  in  the  chair.  He  held  his 
head  in  both  his  hands,  and  groaned  and  groaned  and 


3i4      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

groaned.  Nor  would  he  listen  to  reason.  I  was  a 
quack.  My  painless  tooth-extraction  was  a  delusion 
and  a  snare  and  a  low  advertising  dodge.  I  was  so  anx 
ious  to  get  that  tooth  that  I  was  almost  ready  to  bribe 
him.  But  that  went  against  my  professional  pride  and 
I  let  him  depart  with  the  tooth  still  intact,  the  only 
case  on  record  up  to  date  of  failure  on  my  part  when 
once  I  had  got  a  grip.  Since  then  I  have  never  let  a 
tooth  go  by  me.  Only  the  other  day  I  volunteered 
to  beat  up  three  days  to  windward  to  pull  a  woman 
missionary's  tooth.  I  expect,  before  the  voyage  of 
the  Snark  is  finished,  to  be  doing  bridge  work  and 
putting  on  gold  crowns. 

I  don't  know  whether  they  are  yaws  or  not  —  a 
physician  in  Fiji  told  me  they  were,  and  a  missionary 
in  the  Solomons  told  me  they  were  not ;  but  at  any 
rate  I  can  vouch  for  the  fact  that  they  are  most  uncom 
fortable.  It  was  my  luck  to  ship  in  Tahiti  a  French 
sailor,  who,  when  we  got  to  sea,  proved  to  be  afflicted 
with  a  vile  skin  disease.  The  Snark  was  too  small  and 
too  much  of  a  family  party  to  permit  retaining  him  on 
board ;  but  perforce,  until  we  could  reach  land  and 
discharge  him,  it  was  up  to  me  to  doctor  him.  I  read 
up  the  books  and  proceeded  to  treat  him,  taking  care 
afterwards  always  to  use  a  thorough  antiseptic  wash. 
When  we  reached  Tutuila,  far  from  getting  rid  of  him, 
the  port  doctor  declared  a  quarantine  against  him  and 
refused  to  allow  him  ashore.  But  at  Apia,  Samoa,  I 
managed  to  ship  him  off  on  a  steamer  to  New  Zealand. 
Here  at  Apia  my  ankles  were  badly  bitten  by  mos 
quitoes,  and  I  confess  to  having  scratched  the  bites  — 
as  I  had  a  thousand  times  before.  By  the  time  I 
reached  the  island  of  Savaii,  a  small  sore  had  developed 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  315 

on  the  hollow  of  my  instep.  I  thought  it  was  due  to 
chafe  and  to  acid  fumes  from  the  hot  lava  over  which 
I  tramped.  An  application  of  salve  would  cure  it  — 
so  I  thought.  The  salve  did  heal  it  over,  whereupon 
an  astonishing  inflammation  set  in,  the  new  skin  came 
off,  and  a  larger  sore,  was  exposed.  This  was  repeated 
many  times.  Each  time  new  skin  formed,  an  inflam 
mation  followed,  and  the  circumference  of  the  sore  in 
creased.  I  was  puzzled  and  frightened.  All  my  life 
my  skin  had  been  famous  for  its  healing  powers,  yet 
here  was  something  that  would  not  heal.  Instead,  it 
was  daily  eating  up  more  skin,  while  it  had  eaten  down 
clear  through  the  skin  and  was  eating  up  the  muscle 
itself. 

By  this  time  the  Snark  was  at  sea  on  her  way  to 
Fiji.  I  remembered  the  French  sailor,  and  for  the 
first  time  became  seriously  alarmed.  Four  other  simi 
lar  sores  had  appeared  —  or  ulcers,  rather,  and  the  pain 
of  them  kept  me  awake  at  night.  All  my  plans  were 
made  to  lay  up  the  Snark  in  Fiji  and  get  away  on  the 
first  steamer  to  Australia  and  professional  M.D.'s. 
In  the  meantime,  in  my  amateur  M.D.  way,  I  did  my 
best.  I  read  through  all  the  medical  works  on  board. 
Not  a  line  nor  a  word  could  I  find  descriptive  of  my 
affliction.  I  brought  common  horse-sense  to  bear  on 
the  problem.  Here  were  malignant  and  excessively 
active  ulcers  that  were  eating  me  up.  There  was  an 
organic  and  corroding  poison  at  work.  Two  things  I 
concluded  must  be  done.  First,  some  agent  must  be 
found  to  destroy  the  poison.  Secondly,  the  ulcers 
could  not  possibly  heal  from  the  outside  in  ;  they  must 
heal  from  the  inside  out.  I  decided  to  fight  the  poison 
with  corrosive  sublimate.  The  very  name  of  it  struck 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  317 

me  as  vicious.  Talk  of  fighting  fire  with  fire!  I  was 
being  consumed  by  a  corrosive  poison,  and  it  appealed 
to  my  fancy  to  fight  it  with  another  corrosive  poison. 
After  several  days  I  alternated  dressings  of  corrosive 
sublimate  with  dressings  of  peroxide  of  hydrogen. 
And  behold,  by  the  time  we  reached  Fiji  four  of  the 
five  ulcers  were  healed,  while  the  remaining  one  was 
no  bigger  than  a  pea. 

I  now  felt  fully  qualified  to  treat  yaws.  Likewise  I 
had  a  wholesome  respect  for  them.  Not  so  the  rest 
of  the  crew  of  the  Snark.  In  their  case,  seeing  was 
not  believing.  One  and  all,  they  had  seen  my  dread 
ful  predicament;  and  all  of  them,  I  am  convinced,  had 
a  subconscious  certitude  that  their  own  superb  constitu 
tions  and  glorious  personalities  would  never  allow  lodg 
ment  ot  so  vile  a  poison  in  their  carcasses  as  my 
anaemic  constitution  and  mediocre  personality  had  al 
lowed  to  lodge  in  mine.  At  Port  Resolution,  in  the 
New  Hebrides,  Martin  elected  to  walk  barefooted  in 
the  bush  and  returned  on  board  with  many  cuts  and 
abrasions,  especially  on  his  shins. 

"You'd  better  be  careful,"  I  warned  him.  "I'll 
mix  up  some  corrosive  sublimate  for  you  to  wash  those 
cuts  with.  An  ounce  of  prevention,  you  know." 

But  Martin  smiled  a  superior  smile.  Though  he 
did  not  say  so,  I  nevertheless  was  given  to  understand 
that  he  was  not  as  other  men  (I  was  the  only  man  he 
could  possibly  have  had  reference  to),  and  that  in  a  couple 
of  days  his  cuts  would  he  healed.  He  also  read  me  a 
dissertation  upon  the  peculiar  purity  of  his  blood  and  his 
remarkable  healing  powers.  I  felt  quite  humble  when 
he  was  done  with  me.  Evidently  I  was  different  from 
other  men  in  so  far  as  uurity  of  blood  was  concerned. 


3i8      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

Nakata,  the  cabin-boy,  while  ironing  one  day,  mis 
took  the  calf  of  his  leg  for  the  ironing-block  and 
accumulated  a  burn  three  inches  in  length  and  half  an 
inch  wide.  He,  too,  smiled  the  superior  smile  when  I 
offered  him  corrosive  sublimate  and  reminded  him  of 
my  own  cruel  experience.  I  was  given  to  understand, 
with  all  due  suavity  and  courtesy,  that  no  matter 


Visitors  coming  alongside,  Meringe  Lagoon,  Ysabel,  Solomon  Islands. 

what  was  the  matter  with  my  blood,  his  number-one, 
Japanese,  Port-Arthur  blood  was  all  right  and  scorn 
ful  of  the  festive  microbe. 

Wada,  the  cook,  took  part  in  a  disastrous  landing 
of  the  launch,  when  he  had  to  leap  overboard  and 
fend  the  launch  off  the  beach  in  a  smashing  surf. 
By  means  of  shells  and  coral  he  cut  his  legs  and  feet 
up  beautifully.  I  offered  him  the  corrosive  sublimate 
bottle.  Once  again  I  suffered  the  superior  smile  and 


THE   AMATEUR    M.D.  319 

was  given  to  understand  that  his  blood  was  the  same 
blood  that  had  licked  Russia  and  was  going  to  lick  the 
United  States  some  day,  and  that  if  his  blood  wasn't 
able  to  cure  a  few  trifling  cuts,  he'd  commit  hari-kari 
in  sheer  disgrace. 

From  all  of  which  I  concluded  that  an  amateur 
M.D.  is  without  honor  on  his  own  vessel,  even  if  he  has 
cured  himself.  The  rest  of  the  crew  had  begun  to 
look  upon  me  as  a  sort  of  mild  monomaniac  on  the 
question  of  sores  and  sublimate.  Just  because  my 
blood  was  impure  was  no  reason  that  I  should  think 
everybody  else's  was.  I  made  no  more  overtures. 
Time  and  microbes  were  with  me,  and  all  I  had  to  do 
was  wait. 

ci  I  think  there's  some  dirt  in  those  cuts,"  Martin 
said  tentatively,  after  several  days.  "  I'll  wash  them 
out  and  then  they'll  be  all  right,"  he  added,  after  I  had 
refused  to  rise  to  the  bait. 

Two  more  days  passed,  but  the  cuts  did  not  pass, 
and  I  caught  Martin  soaking  his  feet  and  legs  in  a  pail 
of  hot  water. 

"Nothing  like  hot  water,  he  proclaimed  enthusiasti 
cally.  "  It  beats  all  the  dope  the  doctors  ever  put  up. 
These  sores  will  be  all  right  in  the  morning." 

But  in  the  morning  he  wore  a  troubled  look,  and  I 
knew  that  the  hour  of  my  triumph  approached. 

"  I  think  I  will  try  some  of  that  medicine,"  he  an 
nounced  later  on  in  the  day.  "  Not  that  I  think  it'll 
do  much  good,"  he  qualified,  "  but  I'll  just  give  it  a 
try  anyway." 

Next  came  the  proud  blood  of  Japan  to  beg  medi 
cine  for  its  illustrious  sores,  while  I  heaped  coals  of 
fire  on  all  their  houses  by  explaining  in  minute  and 


320      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

sympathetic  detail  the  treatment  that  should  be  given. 
Nakata  followed  instructions  implicitly,  and  day  by 
day  his  sores  grew  smaller.  Wada  was  apathetic,  and 
cured  less  readily.  But  Martin  still  doubted,  and  be 
cause  he  did  not  cure  immediately,  he  developed  the 
theory  that  while  doctor's  dope  was  all  right,  it  did  not 
follow  that  the  same  kind  of  dope  was  efficacious  with 
everybody.  As  for  himself,  corrosive  sublimate  had 
no  effect.  Besides,  how  did  I  know  that  it  was  the 
right  stuff?  I  had  had  no  experience.  Just  because 
I  happened  to  get  well  while  using  it  was  not  proof 
that  it  had  played  any  part  in  the  cure.  There  were 
such  things  as  coincidences.  Without  doubt  there  was 
a  dope  that  would  cure  the  sores,  and  when  he  ran 
across  a  real  doctor  he  would  find  what  that  dope  was 
and  get  some  of  it. 

About  this  time  we  arrived  in  the  Solomon  Islands. 
No  physician  would  ever  recommend  the  group  for 
invalids  or  sanitariums.  I  spent  but  little  time  there 
ere  I  really  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  compre 
hended  how  frail  and  unstable  is  human  tissue.  Our 
first  anchorage  was  Port  Mary,  on  the  island  of  Santa 
Anna.  The  one  lone  white  man,  a  trader,  came  along 
side.  Tom  Butler  was  his  name,  and  he  was  a  beautiful 
example  of  what  the  Solomons  can  do  to  a  strong  man. 
He  lay  in  his  whale-boat  with  the  helplessness  of  a 
dying  man.  No  smile  and  little  intelligence  illumined 
his  face.  He  was  a  sombre  death's-head,  too  far  gone 
to  grin.  He,  too,  had  yaws,  big  ones.  We  were 
compelled  to  drag  him  over  the  rail  of  the  Snark. 
He  said  that  his  health  was  good,  that  he  had  not  had 
the  fever  for  some  time,  and  that  with  the  exception 
of  his  arm  he  was  all  right  and  trim.  His  arm  ap- 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D. 


321 


zxo 


THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

peared  to  be  paralyzed.  Paralysis  he  rejected  with 
scorn.  He  had  had  it.  before,  and  recovered.  It  was 
a  common  native  disease  on  Santa  Anna,  he  said,  as  he 
was  helped  down  the  companion  ladder,  his  dead  arm 
dropping,  bump-bump,  from  step  to  step.  He  was 
certainly  the  ghastliest  guest  we  ever  entertained,  and 
we've  had  not  a  few  lepers  and  elephantiasis  victims  on 
board. 

Martin  inquired  about  yaws,  for  here  was  a  man 
who  ought  to  know.  He  certainly  did  know,  if  we 
could  judge  by  his  scarred  arms  and  legs  and  by  the 
live  ulcers  that  corroded  in  the  midst  of  the  scars. 
Oh,  one  got  used  to  yaws,  quoth  Tom  Butler.  They 
were  never  really  serious  until  they  had  eaten  deep  into 
the  flesh.  Then  they  attacked  the  walls  of  the  arteries, 
the  arteries  burst,  and  there  was  a  funeral.  Several  of 
the  natives  had  recently  died  that  way  ashore.  But 
what  did  it  matter  ?  If  it  wasn't  yaws,  it  was  some 
thing  else  —  in  the  Solomons. 

I  noticed  that  from  this  moment  Martin  displayed  a 
swiftly  increasing  interest  in  his  own  yaws.  Dosings 
with  corrosive  sublimate  were  more  frequent,  while,  in 
conversation,  he  began  to  revert  with  growing  en 
thusiasm  to  the  clean  climate  of  Kansas  and  all  other 
things  Kansan.  Charmian  and  I  thought  that  Cali 
fornia  was  a  little  bit  of  all  right.  Henry  swore  by 
Rapa,  and  Tehei  staked  all  on  Bora  Bora  for  his  own 
blood's  sake ;  while  Wada  and  Nakata  sang  the  sani 
tary  paean  of  Japan. 

One  evening,  as  the  Snark  worked  around  the 
southern  end  of  the  island  of  Ugi,  looking  for  a  re 
puted  anchorage,  a  Church  of  England  missionary,  a 
Mr.  Drew,  bound  in  his  whale-boat  for  the  coast  of 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D. 


323 


324      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

San  Cristoval,  came  alongside  and  stopped  for  dinner. 
Martin,  his  legs  swathed  in  Red  Cross  bandages  till 
they  looked  like  a  mummy's,  turned  the  conversation 
upon  yaws.  Yes,  said  Mr.  Drew,  they  were  quite  com 
mon  in  the  Solomons.  All  white  men  caught  them. 

"  And  have  you  had  them?  "  Martin  demanded,  in  the 
soul  of  him  quite  shocked  that  a  Church  of  England 
missionary  could  possess  so  vulgar  an  affliction. 

Mr.  Drew  nodded  his  head  and  added  that  not  only 
had  he  had  them,  but  at  that  moment  he  was  doctor 
ing  several. 

"  What  do  you  use  on  them  ?  "  Martin  asked  like 
a  flash. 

My  heart  almost  stood  still  waiting  the  answer.  By 
that  answer  my  professional  medical  prestige  stood  or 
fell.  Martin,  I  could  see,  was  quite  sure  it  was  going 
to  fall.  And  then  the  answer  —  O  blessed  answer! 

"  Corrosive  sublimate,"  said  Mr.  Drew. 

Martin  gave  in  handsomely,  I'll  admit,  and  I  am 
confident  that  at  that  moment,  if  I  had  asked  per 
mission  to  pull  one  of  his  teeth,  he  would  not  have 
denied  me. 

All  white  men  in  the  Solomons  catch  yaws,  and 
every  cut  or  abrasion  practically  means  another  yaw. 
Every  man  I  met  had  had  them,  and  nine  out  of  ten 
had  active  ones.  There  was  but  one  exception,  a 
young  fellow  who  had  been  in  the  islands  five  months, 
who  had  come  down  with  fever  ten  days  after  he  ar 
rived,  and  who  had  since  then  been  down  so  often 
with  fever  that  he  had  had  neither  time  nor  opportun 
ity  for  yaws. 

Every  one  on  the  Snark  except  Charmian  came  down 
with  yaws.  Hers  was  the  same  egotism  that  Japan 


THE   AMATEUR    M.D.  325 

and  Kansas  had  displayed.  She  ascribed  her  immunity 
to  the  pureness  of  her  blood,  and  as  the  days  went  by 
she  ascribed  it  more  often  and  more  loudly  to  the  pure- 
ness  of  her  blood.  Privately  I  ascribed  her  immunity 
to  the  fact  that,  being  a  woman,  she  escaped  most  of  the 
cuts  and  abrasions  to  which  we.  hard-working  men  were 
subject  in  the  course  of  working  the  Snark  around  the 
world.  I  did  not  tell  her  so.  You  see,  I  did  not 
wish  to  bruise  her  ego  with  brutal  facts.  Being  an 
M.D.,  if  only  an  amateur  one,  I  knew  more  about  the 
disease  than  she,  and  I  knew  that  time  was  my  ally. 
But  alas,  I  abused  my  ally  when  it  dealt  a  charming 
little  yaw  on  the  shin.  So  quickly  did  I  apply  anti 
septic  treatment,  that  the  yaw  was  cured  before  she  was 
convinced  that  she  had  one.  Again,  as  an  M.D.,  I  was 
without  honor  on  my  own  vessel ;  and,  worse  than 
that,  I  was  charged  with  having  tried  to  mislead  her 
into  the  belief  that  she  had  had  a  yaw.  The  pureness 
of  her  blood  was  more  rampant  than  ever,  and  I  poked 
my  nose  into  my  navigation  books  and  kept  quiet. 
And  then  came  the  day.  We  were  cruising  along  the 
coast  of  Malaita  at  the  time. 

"  What's  that  abaft  your  ankle-bone  ?  "   said  I. 

"  Nothing,"  said  she. 

"  All  right,"  said  I ;  "  but  put  some  corrosive 
sublimate  on  it  just  the  same.  And  some  two  or 
three  weeks  from  now,  when  it  is  well  and  you  have  a 
scar  that  you  will  carry  to  your  grave,  just  forget 
about  the  purity  of  your  blood  and  your  ancestral 
history  and  tell  me  what  you  think  about  yaws  any 
way." 

It  was  as  large  as  a  silver  dollar,  that  yaw,  and  it  took 
all  of  three  weeks  to  heal.  There  were  times  when 


326      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

Charmian  could  not  walk  because  of  the  hurt  of  it; 
and  there  were  times  upon  times  when  she  explained 
that  abaft  the  ankle-bone  was  the  most  painful  place  to 
have  a  yaw.  I  explained,  in  turn,  that,  never  having 
experienced  a  yaw  in  that  locality,  I  was  driven  to  con- 


The  Snark's  Complement  in  the  Solomons  after  we  lost  the  Cook  and 
gained  a  German  Mate  who  didn't  last. 

elude  the  hollow  of  the  instep  was  the  most  painful  place 
for  yaw-culture.  We  left  it  to  Martin,  who  disagreed 
with  both  of  us  and  proclaimed  passionately  that  the 
only  truly  painful  place  was  the  shin.  No  wonder 
horse-racing  is  so  popular. 

But  yaws  lose  their  novelty  after  a  time.     At  the 
present  moment  of  writing   I   have  five  yaws  on  my 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  327 

hands  and  three  more  on  my  shin.  Charmian  has  one 
on  each  side  of  her  right  instep.  Tehei  is  frantic  with 
his.  Martin's  latest  shin-cultures  have  eclipsed  his 
earlier  ones.  And  Nakata  has  several  score  casually 
eating  away  at  his  tissue.  But  the  history  of  the 
Snark  in  the  Solomons  has  been  the  history  of  every 
ship  since  the  early  discoverers.  From  the  "  Sailing 
Directions  "  I  quote  the  following: 

"The  crews  of  vessels  remaining  any  considerable  time  in  the 
Solomons  find  wounds  and  sores  liable  to  change  into  malignant 
ulcers." 

Nor  on  the  question  of  fever  were  the  "Sailing  Direc 
tions  "  any  more  encouraging,  for  in  them  I  read  : 

"New  arrivals  are  almost  certain  sooner  or  later  to  suffer  from  fever. 
The  natives  are  also  subject  to  it.  The  number  of  deaths  among  the 
whites  in  the  year  1897  amounted  to  9  among  a  population  of  50." 

Some  of  these  deaths,  however,  were  accidental. 

Nakata  was  the  first  to  come  down  with  fever. 
This  occurred  at  Penduffryn.  Wada  and  Henry  fol 
lowed  him.  Charmian  surrendered  next.  I  managed 
to  escape  for  a  couple  of  months  ;  but  when  I  was 
bowled  over,  Martin  sympathetically  joined  me  several 
days  later.  Out  of  the  seven  of  us  all  told  Tehei  is 
the  only  one  who  has  escaped  ;  but  his  sufferings  from 
nostalgia  are  worse  than  fever.  Nakata,  as  usual, 
followed  instructions  faithfully,  so  that  by  the  end  of 
his  third  attack  he  could  take  a  two  hours'  sweat,  con 
sume  thirty  or  forty  grains  of  quinine,  and  be  weak 
but  all  right  at  the  end  of  twenty-four  hours. 

Wada  and  Henry,  however,  were  tougher  patients 
with  which  to  deal.  In  the  first  place,  Wada  got  in  a 


328      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

bad  funk.  He  was  of  the  firm  conviction  that  his  star 
had  set  and  that  the  Solomons  would  receive  his  bones. 
He  saw  that  life  about  him  was  cheap.  At  Penduffryn 
he  saw  the  ravages  of  dysentery,  and,  unfortunately  for 
him,  he  saw  one  victim  carried  out  on  a  strip  of  galvan 
ized  sheet-iron  and  dumped  without  coffin  or  funeral 
into  a  hole  in  the  ground.  Everybody  had  fever, 
everybody  had  dysentery,  everybody  had  everything. 
Death  was  common.  Here  to-day  and  gone  to-mor 
row —  and  Wada  forgot  all  about  to-day  and  made  up 
his  mind  that  to-morrow  had  come. 

He  was  careless  of  his  ulcers,  neglected  to  sublimate 
them,  and  by  uncontrolled  scratching  spread  them  all 
over  his  body.  Nor  would  he  follow  instructions  with 
fever,  and,  as  a  result,  would  be  down  five  days  at  a 
time,  when  a  day  would  have  been  sufficient.  Henry, 
who  is  a  strapping  giant  of  a  man,  was  just  as  bad. 
He  refused  point  blank  to  take  quinine,  on  the  ground 
that  years  before  he  had  had  fever  and  that  the  pills 
the  doctor  gave  him  were  of  different  size  and  color 
from  the  quinine  tablets  I  offered  him.  So  Henry 
joined  Wada. 

But  I  fooled  the  pair  of  them,  and  dosed  them  with 
their  own  medicine,  which  was  faith-cure.  They  had 
faith  in  their  funk  that  they  were  going  to  die.  I 
slammed  a  lot  of  quinine  down  their  throats  and  took 
their  temperature.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  used 
my  medicine-chest  thermometer,  and  I  quickly  dis 
covered  that  it  was  worthless,  that  it  had  been  produced 
for  profit  and  not  for  service.  If  I  had  let  on  to  my 
two  patients  that  the  thermometer  did  not  work,  there 
would  have  been  two  funerals  in  short  order.  Their 
temperature  I  swear  was  105°.  I  solemnly  made  one 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  329 

and  then  the  other  smoke  the  thermometer,  allowed  an 
expression  of  satisfaction  to  irradiate  my  countenance, 
and  joyfully  told  them  that  their  temperature  was  94°. 
Then  I  slammed  more  quinine  down  their  throats,  told 
them  that  any  sickness  or  weakness  they  might  ex 
perience  would  be  due  to  the  quinine,  and  left  them  to 
get  well.  And  they  did  get  well,  Wada  in  spite  of 
himself.  If  a  man  can  die  through  a  misapprehension, 
is  there  any  immorality  in  making  him  live  through  a 
misapprehension  ? 

Commend  me  the  white  race  when  it  comes  to  grit 
and  surviving.  One  of  our  two  Japanese  and  both  our 
Tahitians  funked  and  had  to  be  slapped  on  the  back  and 
cheered  up  and  dragged  along  by  main  strength  toward 
life.  Charmian  and  Martin  took  their  afflictions  cheer 
fully,  made  the  least  of  them,  and  moved  with  calm 
certitude  along  the  way  of  life.  When  Wada  and 
Henry  were  convinced  that  they  were  going  to  die,  the 
funeral  atmosphere  was  too  much  for  Tehei,  who 
prayed  dolorously  and  cried  for  hours  at  a  time. 
Martin,  on  the  other  hand,  cursed  and  got  well,  and 
Charmian  groaned  and  made  plans  for  what  she  was 
going  to  do  when  she  got  well  again. 

Charmian  had  been  raised  a  vegetarian  and  a  sani 
tarian.  Her  Aunt  Netta,  who  brought  her  up  and 
who  lived  in  a  healthful  climate,  did  not  believe  in 
drugs.  Neither  did  Charmian.  Besides,  drugs  dis 
agreed  with  her.  Their  effects  were  worse  than  the  ills 
they  were  supposed  to  alleviate.  But  she  listened  to 
the  argument  in  favor  of  quinine,  accepted  it  as  the 
lesser  evil,  and  in  consequence  had  shorter,  less  painful, 
and  less  frequent  attacks  of  fever.  We  encountered  a 
Mr.  Caulfeild,  a  missionary,  whose  two  predecessors 


330      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

had  died  after  less  than  six  months'  residence  in  the 
Solomons.  Like  them  he  had  been  a  firm  believer  in 
homeopathy,  until  after  his  first  fever,  whereupon, 
unlike  them,  he  made  a  grand  slide  back  to  allopathy 
and  quinine,  catching  fever  and  carrying  on  his  Gospel 
work. 

But  poor  Wada  !  The  straw  that  broke  the  cook's 
back  was  when  Charmian  and  I  took  him  along  on  a 
cruise  to  the  cannibal  island  of  Malaita,  in  a  small 
yacht,  on  the  deck  of  which  the  captain  had  been 
murdered  half  a  year  before.  Kai-kai  means  to  eat, 
and  Wada  was  sure  he  was  going  to  be  kai-kat'd. 
We  went  about  heavily  armed,  our  vigilance  was  un 
remitting,  and  when  we  went  for  a  bath  in  the  mouth 
of  a  fresh-water  stream,  black  boys,  armed  with  rifles, 
did  sentry  duty  about  us.  We  encountered  English 
war  vessels  burning  and  shelling  villages  in  punish 
ment  for  murders.  Natives  with  prices  on  their  heads 
sought  shelter  on  board  of  us.  Murder  stalked  abroad 
in  the  land.  In  out-of-the-way  places  we  received 
warnings  from  friendly  savages  of  impending  attacks. 
Our  vessel  owed  two  heads  to  Malaita,  which  were 
liable  to  be  collected  any  time.  Then  to  cap  it  all, 
we  were  wrecked  on  a  reef,  and  with  rifles  in  one  hand 
warned  the  canoes  of  wreckers  off  while  with  the 
other  hand  we  toiled  to  save  the  ship.  All  of  which 
was  too  much  for  Wada,  who  went  daffy,  and  who  finally 
quit  the  Snark  on  the  island  of  Ysabel,  going  ashore 
for  good  in  a  driving  rain-storm,  between  two  attacks 
of  fever,  while  threatened  with  pneumonia.  If  he 
escapes  being  kai-kai'd,  and  if  he  can  survive  sores  and 
fever  which  are  riotous  ashore,  he  can  expect,  if  he  is 
reasonably  lucky,  to  get  away  from  that  place  to  the 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  331 

adjacent  island  in  anywhere  from  six  to  eight  weeks. 
He  never  did  think  much  of  my  medicine,  despite  the 
fact  that  I  successfully  and  at  the  first  trial  pulled  two 
aching  teeth  for  him. 

The  Snark  has  been  a  hospital  for  months,  and  I 
confess  that  we  are  getting  used  to  it.  At  Meringe 
Lagoon,  where  we  careened  and  cleaned  the  Snark' s 
copper,  there  were  times  when  only  one  man  of  us  was 
able  to  go  into  the  water,  while  the  three  white  men  on 
the  plantation  ashore  were  all  down  with  fever.  At 
the  moment  of  writing  this  we  are  lost  at  sea  somewhere 
northeast  of  Ysabel  and  trying  vainly  to  find  Lord 
Howe  island,  which  is  an  atoll  that  cannot  be  sighted 
unless  one  is  on  top  of  it.  The  chronometer  has  gone 
wrong.  The  sun  does  not  shine  anyway,  nor  can  I  get 
a  star  observation  at  night,  and  we  have  had  nothing 
but  squalls  and  rain  for  days  and  days.  The  cook  is 
gone.  Nakata,  who  has  been  trying  to  be  both  cook 
and  cabin  boy,  is  down  on  his  back  with  fever.  Martin 
is  just  up  from  fever,  and  going  down  again.  Charmian, 
whose  fever  has  become  periodical,  is  looking  up  in 
her  date  book  to  find  when  the  next  attack  will  be. 
Henry  has  begun  to  eat  quinine  in  an  expectant  mood. 
And,  since  my  attacks  hit  me  with  the  suddenness  of 
bludgeon-blows,  I  do  not  know  from  moment  to  moment 
when  I  shall  be  brought  down.  By  a  mistake  we  gave 
our  last  flour  away  to  some  white  men  who  did  not 
have  any  flour.  We  don't  know  when  we'll  make 
land.  Our  Solomon  sores  are  worse  than  ever,  and 
more  numerous.  The  corrosive  sublimate  was  accident 
ally  left  ashore  at  Penduffryn  ;  the  peroxide  of  hydrogen 
is  exhausted  ;  and  I  am  experimenting  with  boracic 
acid,  lysol,  and  antiphlogystine.  At  any  rate,  if  I  fail 


THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 


in  becoming  a  reputable   M.D.,  it  won't  be  from  lack 
of  practice. 

P.S.  It  is  now  two  weeks  since  the  foregoing  was 
written,  and  Tehei,  the  only  immune  on  board,  has 
been  down  ten  days  with  far  severer  fever  than  any  of 
us  and  is  still  down.  His  temperature  has  been  re 
peatedly  as  high  as  104,  and  his  pulse  115. 

P.S.  At  sea,  between  Tas- 
man  atoll  and  Manning  Straits. 
Tehei's  attack  developed 
into  black  water  fever  —  the 
severest  form  of  malarial  fever, 
which,  the  doctor-book  assures 
me,  is  due  to  some  outside  in- 
fection  as  well.  Having  pulled 
him  through  his  fever,  I  am 
now  at  my  wit's  end,  for  he 
has  lost  his  wits  altogether.  I 
am  rather  recent  in  practice  to 
take  up  the  cure  of  insanity. 
This  makes  the  second  lunacy 
case  on  this  short  voyage. 

P.S.  Some  day  I  shall 
write  a  book  (for  the  profes 
sion),  and  entitle  it,  "Around 
the  World  on  the  Hospital 
Ship  Snark"  Even  our  pets  have  not  escaped.  We 
sailed  from  Meringe  Lagoon  with  two,  an  Irish  terrier 
and  a  white  cockatoo.  The  terrier  fell  down  the  cabin 
companionway  and  lamed  its  nigh  hind  leg,  then  re 
peated  the  manoeuvre  and  lamed  its  off  fore  leg.  At  the 
present  moment  it  has  but  two  legs  to  walk  on.  Fortu 
nately,  they  are  on  opposite  sides  and  ends,  so  that  she 


Laundry  Bills  are  not  among 
his  Vexations.  His  Garb, 
however,  is  a  Concession  to 
Civilization.  —  Lord  Howe 
Atoll. 


THE    AMATEUR    M.D.  333 

can  still  dot  and  carry  two.  The  cockatoo  was  crushed 
under  the  cabin  skylight  and  had  to  be  killed.  This 
was  our  first  funeral  —  though  for  that  matter,  the 
several  chickens  we  had,  and  which  would  have  made 
welcome  broth  for  the  convalescents,  flew  overboard 
and  were  drowned.  Only  the  cockroaches  flourish. 
Neither  illness  nor  accident  ever  befalls  them,  and  they 
grow  larger  and  more  carnivorous  day  by  day,  gnawing 
our  finger-nails  and  toe-nails  while  we  sleep. 

P.S.  Charmian  is  having  another  bout  with  fever. 
Martin,  in  despair,  has  taken  to  horse-doctoring  his 
yaws  with  bluestone  and  to  blessing  the  Solomons. 
As  for  me,  in  addition  to  navigating,  doctoring,  and 
writing  short  stories,  I  am  far  from  well.  With  the 
exception  of  the  insanity  cases,  I'm  the  worst  ofFon  board. 
I  shall  catch  the  next  steamer  to  Australia  and  go  on  the 
operating  table.  Among  my  minor  afflictions,  I  may 
mention  a  new  and  mysterious  one.  For  the  past  week 
my  hands  have  been  swelling  as  with  dropsy.  It  is  only 
by  a  painful  effort  that  I  can  close  them.  A  pull  on 
a  rope  is  excruciating.  The  sensations  are  like  those 
that  accompany  severe  chilblains.  Also,  the  skin  is 
peeling  off  both  hands  at  an  alarming  rate,  besides 
which  the  new  skin  underneath  is  growing  hard  and 
thick.  The  doctor-book  fails  to  mention  this  disease. 
Nobody  knows  what  it  is. 

P.S.  Well,  anyway,  I've  cured  the  chronometer. 
After  knocking  about  the  sea  for  eight  squally,  rainy 
days,  most  of  the  time  hove  to,  I  succeeded  in  catching 
a  partial  observation  of  the  sun  at  midday.  From  this 
I  worked  up  my  latitude,  then  headed  by  log  to  the 
latitude  of  Lord  Ho  we,  and  ran  both  that  latitude  and  the 
island  down  together.  Here  I  tested  the  chronometer 


334      THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    SNARK 

by  longitude  sights  and  found  it  something  like  three 
minutes  out.  Since  each  minute  is  equivalent  to  fifteen 
miles,  the  total  error  can  be  appreciated.  By  repeated 
observations  at  Lord  Howe  I  rated  the  chronometer, 


The  Trader's  House  at  Lua  Nua,  Lord  Howe  Atoll. 

finding  it  to  have  a  daily  losing  error  of  seven-tenths 
of  a  second.  Now  it  happens  that  a  year  ago,  when  we 
sailed  from  Hawaii,  that  selfsame  chronometer  had 
that  selfsame  losing  error  of  seven-tenths  of  a  second. 
Since  that  error  was  faithfully  added  every  day,  and 


THE   AMATEUR    M.D.  335 

since  that  error,  as  proved  by  my  observations  at  Lord 
Howe,  has  not  changed,  then  what  under  the  sun  made 
that  chronometer  all  of  a  sudden  accelerate  and  catch 
up  with  itself  three  minutes  ?  Can  such  things  be  ? 
Expert  watchmakers  say  no ;  but  I  say  that  they  have 
never  done  any  expert  watchmaking  and  watch-rating  in 
the  Solomons.  That  it  is  the  climate  ismy  only  diagno 
sis.  At  any  rate,  I  have  successfully  doctored  the  chro 
nometer,  even  if  I  have  failed  with  the  lunacy  cases 
ami  with  Martin's  yaws. 

P.S.  Martin  has  just  tried  burnt  alum,  and  is  bless 
ing  the  Solomons  more  fervently  than  ever. 

P.S.      Between  Manning  Straits  and  Pavuvu  Islands. 

Henry  has  developed  rheumatism  in  his  back,  ten 
skins  have  peeled  off  my  hands  and  the  eleventh  is  now 
peeling,  while  Tehei  is  more  lunatic  than  ever  and  day 
and  night  prays  God  not  to  kill  him.  Also,  Nakata 
and  I  are  slashing  away  at  fever  again.  And  finally  up 
to  date,  Nakata  last  evening  had  an  attack  of  ptomaine 
poisoning,  and  we  spent  half  the  night  pulling  him 
through. 


BACKWORD 

THE  Snark  was  forty-three  feet  on  the  water-line 
and  fifty-five  over  all,  with  fifteen  feet  beam  (tumble- 
home  sides)  and  seven  feet  eight  inches  draft.  She  was 
ketch-rigged,  carrying  flying-jib,  jib,  fore-staysail,  main 
sail,  mizzen,  and  spinnaker.  There  were  six  feet  of 
head-room  below,  and  she  was  crown-decked  and  flush- 
decked.  There  were  four  alleged  water-tight  compart 
ments.  A  seventy-horse  power  auxiliary  gas-engine 
sporadically  furnished  locomotion  at  an  approximate  cost 
of  twenty  dollars  per  mile.  A  five-horse  power  engine 
ran  the  pumps  when  it  was  in  order,  and  on  two  occasions 
proved  capable  of  furnishing  juice  for  the  search-light. 
The  storage  batteries  worked  four  or  five  times  in  the 
course  of  two  years.  The  fourteen-foot  launch  was 
rumored  to  work  at  times,  but  it  invariably  broke  down 
whenever  I  stepped  on  board. 

But  the  Snark  sailed.  It  was  the  only  way  she  could 
get  anywhere.  She  sailed  for  two  years,  and  never 
touched  rock,  reef,  nor  shoal.  She  had  no  inside  ballast, 
her  iron  keel  weighed  five  tons,  but  her  deep  draft  and 
high  freeboard  made  her  very  stiff.  Caught  under  full 
sail  in  tropic  squalls,  she  buried  her  rail  and  deck  many 
times,  butstubbornly  refused  to  turn  turtle.  She  steered 
easily,  and  she  could  run  day  and  night,  without  steer 
ing,  close-by,  full-and-by,  and  with  the  wind  abeam. 
With  the  wind  on  her  quarter  and  the  sails  properly 

336 


BACKWORD  337 

trimmed,  she  steered  herself  within  two  points,  and 
with  the  wind  almost  astern  she  required  scarcely  three 
points  for  self-steering. 

The  Snark  was  partly  built  in  San  Francisco.  The 
morning  her  iron  keel  was  to  be  cast  was  the  morning 
of  the  great  earthquake.  Then  came  anarchy.  Six 
months  overdue  in  the  building,  I  sailed  the  shell  of  her 
to  Hawaii  to  be  finished,  the  engine  lashed  to  the  bottom, 
building  materials  lashed  on  deck.  Had  I  remained  in 
San  Francisco  for  completion,  Fd  still  be  there.  As  it 
was,  partly  built,  she  cost  four  times  what  she  ought  to 
have  cost. 

The  Snark  was  born  unfortunately.  She  was  libelled 
in  San  Francisco,  had  her  checks  protested  as  fraudulent 
in  Hawaii,  and  was  fined  for  breach  of  quarantine  in  the 
Solomons.  To  save  themselves,  the  newspapers  could 
not  tell  the  truth  about  her.  When  I  discharged  an  in 
competent  captain,  they  said  I  had  beaten  him  to  a  pulp. 
When  one  young  man  returned  home  to  continue  at 
college,  it  was  reported  that  I  was  a  regular  Wolf  Larsen, 
and  that  my  whole  crew  had  deserted  because  I  had 
beaten  it  to  a  pulp.  In  fact  the  only  blow  struck  on  the 
Snark  was  when  the  cook  was  manhandled  by  a  captain 
who  had  shipped  with  me  under  false  pretences,  and  whom 
I  discharged  in  Fiji.  Also,  Charmian  and  I  boxed  for 
exercise;  but  neither  of  us  was  seriously  maimed. 

The  voyage  was  our  idea  of  a  good  time.  I  built 
the  Snark  and  paid  for  it,  and  for  all  expenses.  I  con 
tracted  to  write  thirty-five  thousand  words  descriptive 
of  the  trip  for  a  magazine  which  was  to  pay  me  the  same 
rate  I  received  for  stories  written  at  home.  Promptly 
the  magazine  advertised  that  it  was  sending  me  espe 
cially  around  the  world  for  itself.  It  was  a  wealthy 


3J8      THE    CRUISE    OF    THE    SNARK 

magazine.  And  every  man  who  had  business  dealings 
with  the  Snark  charged  three  prices  because  forsooth 
the  magazine  could  afford  it.  Down  in  the  uttermost 
South  Sea  isle  this  myth  obtained,  and  I  paid  accord 
ingly.  To  this  day  everybody  believes  that  the  maga 
zine  paid  for  everything  and  that  I  made  a  fortune  out 
of  the  voyage.  It  is  hard,  after  such  advertising,  to 
hammer  it  into  the  human  understanding  that  the  whole 
voyage  was  done  for  the  fun  of  it. 

I  went  to  Australia  to  go  into  hospital,  where  I  spent 
five  weeks.  I  spent  five  months  miserably  sick  in 
hotels.  The  mysterious  malady  that  afflicted  my  hands 
was  too  much  for  the  Australian  specialists.  It  was 
unknown  in  the  literature  of  medicine.  No  case  like 
it  had  ever  been  reported.  It  extended  from  my  hands 
to  my  feet  so  that  at  times  I  was  as  helpless  as  a  child. 
On  occasion  my  hands  were  twice  their  natural  size, 
with  seven  dead  and  dying  skins  peeling  off  at  the  same 
time.  There  were  times  when  my  toe-nails,  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  grew  as  thick  as  they  were  long.  After 
filing  them  off,  inside  another  twenty-four  hours  they 
were  as  thick  as  before. 

The  Australian  specialists  agreed  that  the  malady 
was  non-parasitic,  and  that,  therefore,  it  must  be 
nervous.  It  did  not  mend,  and  it  was  impossible  for 
me  to  continue  the  voyage.  The  only  way  I  could 
have  continued  it  would  have  been  by  being  lashed  in 
my  bunk,  for  in  my  helpless  condition,  unable  to  clutch 
with  my  hands,  I  could  not  have  moved  about  on  a 
small  rolling  boat.  Also,  I  said  to  myself  that  while 
there  were  many  boats  and  many  voyages,  I  had  but 
one  pair  of  hands  and  one  set  of  toe-nails.  Still  further, 
I  reasoned  that  in  my  own  climate  of  California  I  had 


BACKWORD  339 

always  maintained  a  stable  nervous  equilibrium.  So 
back  I  came. 

Since  my  return  I  have  completely  recovered.  And 
I  have  found  out  what  was  the  matter  with  me.  I  en 
countered  a  book  by  Lieutenant  Colonel  Charles  E. 
Woodruff  of  the  United  States  Army  entitled  "  Effects 
of  Tropical  Light  on  White  Men."  Then  I  knew. 
Later,  I  met  Colonel  Woodruff,  and  learned  that  he 
had  been  similarly  afflicted.  Himself  an  Army  surgeon, 
seventeen  Army  surgeons  sat  on  his  case  in  the  Philip 
pines,  and,  like  the  Australian  specialists,  confessed 
themselves  beaten.  In  brief,  I  had  a  strong  predis 
position  toward  the  tissue-destructiveness  of  tropical 
light.  I  was  being  torn  to  pieces  by  the  ultra-violet 
rays  just  as  many  experimenters  with  the  X-ray  have 
been  torn  to  pieces. 

In  passing,  I  may  mention  that  among  the  other 
afflictions  that  jointly  compelled  the  abandonment  of 
the  voyage,  was  one  that  is  variously  called  the  healthy 
man  s  disease,  European  Leprosy,  and  Biblical  Leprosy. 
Unlike  True  Leprosy,  nothing  is  known  of  this  mys 
terious  malady.  No  doctor  has  ever  claimed  a  cure 
for  a  case  of  it,  though  spontaneous  cures  are  recorded. 
It  comes,  they  know  not  how.  It  is,  they  know  not 
what.  It  goes,  they  know  not  why.  Without  the  use 
of  drugs,  merely  by  living  in  the  wholesome  California 
climate,  my  silvery  skin  vanished.  The  only  hope  the 
doctors  had  held  out  to  me  was  a  spontaneous  cure, 
and  such  a  cure  was  mine. 

A  last  word  :  the  test  of  the  voyage.  It  is  easy 
enough  for  me  or  any  man  to  say  that  it  was  enjoyable. 
But  there  is  a  better  witness,  the  one  woman  who  made 
it  from  beginning  to  end.  In  hospital  when  I  broke 


340     THE    CRUISE    OF   THE   SNARK 

the  news  to  Charmian  that  I  must  go  back  to  Cali 
fornia,  the  tears  welled  into  her  eyes.  For  two  days 
she  was  wrecked  and  broken  by  the  knowledge  that  the 
happy,  happy  voyage  was  abandoned. 

GLEN  ELLEN,    CALIFORNIA, 
April  7,  1911. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  Is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

Tel.  No.  642-3405 

Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


m- 


OCT    7  1979 


J 

HEL  CI 

V 

••    OCT  M  °  67.9 

wifvX 

?.9  A9S7  vll,H/^ 

Wrx* 

DISC  CIRC    AUb 


LD2lA-40m-3,'72 
(Qll73SlO)476-A-32 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

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UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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